Hey there, dear listeners, welcome back to another soul-stirring episode of Life Philosophy. I’m so glad you’ve joined me today as we dive into a story that’s as thought-provoking as it is simple—a tale from the life of a great Jain guru and his two disciples. This isn’t just a story; it’s a mirror held up to our own lives, reflecting how the way we ask questions can shape the answers we receive. So, grab a cozy spot, maybe a warm cup of tea, and let’s walk through this beautiful narrative together.
Picture this: a serene garden outside the humble abode of a revered Jain guru, where the air carries the faint scent of blooming flowers and the quiet rustle of leaves. Every morning and evening, two of the guru’s disciples are granted the privilege of strolling through this garden. Now, this isn’t just a casual walk to stretch their legs. Oh no, it’s a form of meditation—a walking meditation, a practice deeply rooted in Jain and Sufi traditions. You see, meditation isn’t just about sitting cross-legged for hours. As the guru often taught, “The body needs movement, the blood needs to flow, but the mind must remain still, whether you sit or walk.” So, these walks were a way to stay fully aware, fully present, with every step grounding them in the moment. Imagine the peace of that—each footfall a reminder to stay awake to life.
But here’s where our story takes a little twist. These two disciples, let’s call them Arjun and Siddharth for the sake of our tale, shared a little secret—a habit of smoking. Now, they weren’t proud of it, but it was a part of their lives, and they longed to know if it was something they could do without breaking the sanctity of their practice. For days, they wrestled with the idea of asking their guru for permission. “What’s the worst that could happen?” Arjun mused one evening as they walked side by side. “He’ll say no, and that’s that.” Siddharth, ever the optimist, chuckled, “I don’t think it’s such a big deal. We’re not smoking inside his house, are we? It’s just the garden. I’m sure he’ll say yes.” With that, they made a pact—tomorrow morning, they’d muster up the courage to ask.
Fast forward to the next day. The sun is just peeking over the horizon, painting the garden in golden hues, when Arjun and Siddharth meet again. But the air between them isn’t as calm as the morning breeze. Arjun’s face is flushed with anger, his eyes narrowed as he spots Siddharth casually puffing on a cigarette. “What’s this?” Arjun snaps, his voice sharp enough to cut through the quiet. “I asked Guru ji, and he flat-out refused me. He said, ‘No, you cannot.’ And here you are, disrespecting his words!”
Siddharth, cool as a cucumber, takes another slow drag and raises an eyebrow. “But… he said yes to me.” Arjun’s jaw drops. “What? That’s unfair! How could he say no to me and yes to you? I’m going back to ask him why!” Before he can storm off, Siddharth holds up a hand, a sly grin creeping across his face. “Wait a minute, my friend. Tell me exactly what you asked him.”
Arjun, still fuming, crosses his arms. “I asked a simple question: ‘Can I smoke while meditating?’ And he said no. That’s it. Now, what did you ask?” Siddharth bursts into laughter, the sound echoing through the garden. “Ahh, now I see the difference! I asked, ‘Can I meditate while smoking?’ And he said yes.”
Now, let’s pause here for a moment, dear listeners. Isn’t that fascinating? Both disciples wanted the same thing—to know if smoking could coexist with their spiritual practice. Yet, the way they framed their questions led to entirely different answers. Arjun’s question, “Can I smoke while meditating?” implied that meditation was the primary act, and smoking would be a distraction—an interruption to the sacred. Naturally, the guru said no. How can you be fully present in meditation if you’re lighting a cigarette in the middle of it?
But Siddharth’s question, “Can I meditate while smoking?” turned the perspective on its head. It suggested that even in the act of smoking, one could bring mindfulness, awareness, and presence. And to that, the guru said yes. Because isn’t that the heart of true spirituality? To be awake in every moment, whether you’re praying, walking, or even doing something as mundane as smoking? As the guru later explained to them, “Life is meditation. Every breath, every action can be sacred if you bring your whole being to it.”
This little exchange in the garden isn’t just about smoking, of course. It’s a profound lesson on the art of asking questions. Think about it—how often do we stumble through life asking the wrong questions, only to be frustrated by the answers we get? I remember a time in my own life when I kept asking, “Why is this happening to me?” every time something went wrong. The answers I got were always heavy, filled with blame or self-pity. But one day, a wise friend nudged me to reframe it: “What can I learn from this?” Suddenly, the answers shifted. They became lessons, opportunities, stepping stones. The question changed, and so did my entire perspective.
The Jain guru’s teaching here reminds us that the universe responds to the energy behind our words. As Siddharth reflected later that day, “It’s all a game of asking the right question. If you ask with clarity, with intention, the cosmos itself opens up to guide you.” And isn’t that a beautiful thought? That we hold the power to shape our answers by crafting our questions with care, with curiosity, almost like an artist painting on a canvas.
Let’s linger on the emotional depth of this moment in the garden. Imagine Arjun’s initial anger melting into awe as he realizes the wisdom behind their guru’s responses. Picture Siddharth’s laughter fading into a quiet respect for how subtly profound their teacher’s guidance is. There’s a humbling realization for both—a reminder that spirituality isn’t about rigid rules but about the intention behind every act. The guru didn’t judge the act of smoking itself; he judged the awareness they brought to it. And in that, there’s a lesson for all of us: it’s not always about what we do, but how we do it.
As I think about this story, I’m reminded of something the guru might have said if he were speaking to us directly: “My dear ones, life is not a set of dos and don’ts carved in stone. It’s a dance of consciousness. Whether you’re sipping tea, walking in a garden, or facing your darkest fears, ask yourself—am I here, truly here? Am I awake to this moment? If the answer is yes, then you’ve found the path.”
So, dear listeners, as we wrap up today’s episode, I want to leave you with a little challenge. Think about a question you’ve been wrestling with lately—maybe about your career, a relationship, or even your own purpose. Take a moment to write it down, then play with it. How can you reframe it? Can you ask it in a way that opens doors rather than builds walls? Maybe instead of asking, “Why can’t I succeed?” try, “What steps can I take to grow?” See how the shift feels. I promise you, it’s like turning on a light in a room you thought was forever dark.
Thank you for walking through this story with me today. Stories like these, from the gardens of ancient wisdom, aren’t just tales—they’re invitations to look deeper, to live fuller. Until next time, keep asking the right questions, keep seeking with an open heart, and remember, every step can be a meditation if you choose to make it so. See you soon on Life Philosophy.