Hey there, friends! Welcome back to Life Philosophy, the podcast where we dive deep into the stories, teachings, and timeless wisdom that help us navigate this beautiful, messy journey called life. I’m thrilled to have you with me today as we unpack a profound tale—a story that weaves together themes of expectation, gratitude, and the power of perspective. So, grab a cozy spot, maybe a warm cup of tea, and let’s step into this narrative together.
Our story begins in a bustling town called Ijjat Nagar, a place known for its grand temple dedicated to a revered deity. Every year, a wise and gentle sadhu, a holy man, would visit this town to offer his prayers at the temple. And every time he came, he stayed at the home of one of his most devoted disciples, a wealthy merchant named Vaisi. Now, Vaisi wasn’t just well-off—he was really well-off. His sprawling mansion buzzed with servants, his businesses thrived, and life, on the outside, seemed perfect. The sadhu and Vaisi shared a warm bond, and each visit was usually filled with laughter, shared meals, and deep conversations. But this time, something felt… off.
As the sadhu settled into Vaisi’s home, he couldn’t help but notice a heaviness in the air. Vaisi, who was usually all smiles and energy, seemed distant, his brow furrowed with worry. One quiet afternoon, while sipping herbal tea in the courtyard, the sadhu turned to Vaisi’s wife and asked with a gentle tone, “Sister, what’s troubling Vaisi? He doesn’t seem himself. Is everything alright?”
Vaisi’s wife sighed, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Maharaj, it’s strange, isn’t it? You’d think he’d be over the moon, because his business made a profit of five lakhs this year. But instead, he’s drowning in worry.”
The sadhu raised an eyebrow, puzzled. “A profit of five lakhs? That’s a reason to celebrate, not to sulk! What’s the matter then?”
She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Oh, Maharaj, if you ask him, he’ll tell you he’s upset because he lost five lakhs. You see, he expected a profit of ten lakhs. Since he only made half of that, he’s convinced himself he’s suffered a terrible loss.”
The sadhu leaned back, a thoughtful expression crossing his weathered face. Later that evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the two men sat together under a flickering lamp, the sadhu decided to address the elephant in the room. “Vaisi, my friend, what weighs on your heart? Tell me, what’s troubling you?”
Vaisi let out a long, heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping. “Guruji, what can I say? I’ve suffered a loss of five lakhs in my business. I had hoped for a profit of ten lakhs, but I only made half. It’s a failure, a massive setback.”
The sadhu couldn’t help but smile inwardly. Here was a man who had gained so much, yet his mind was fixated on what he didn’t have. It wasn’t a loss of money—it was a loss of perspective. And isn’t that so often the case with us, friends? We build towering expectations in our minds, and when reality doesn’t match up, we mourn the gap as if it were a real, tangible loss. But let’s pause here for a moment. Imagine if Vaisi had expected only two lakhs and ended up with five—wouldn’t he be dancing with joy? It’s not the outcome that defines our happiness; it’s the lens through which we view it.
This brings us to a powerful teaching, one that echoes through the ages: our suffering often stems not from what we lack, but from what we expect. The higher the expectation, the deeper the discontent. If we can lower the bar of our desires, or better yet, release them altogether, we might just find peace in what is, rather than what could have been. As the sadhu mused to himself that night, “Man chases shadows of unmet dreams, blind to the treasures already in his hands.”
Now, let’s shift gears to another story, one that beautifully contrasts Vaisi’s mindset. Picture the great philosopher Socrates, sitting outside his modest home in ancient Greece, surrounded by eager students and curious passersby. It’s a crisp morning, and Socrates is deep in conversation, unraveling life’s mysteries with his signature wit. He calls out to his wife to prepare tea for his guests, and soon enough, she emerges with a tray. But Socrates, lost in thought, doesn’t hear her calls to take the tea. Once, twice, three times—she calls louder, her frustration mounting. Finally, in a fit of irritation, she tips the pot of hot tea right over Socrates’ head.
Ouch, right? Half his face is scalded, the pain is sharp, and the onlookers gasp in horror. But Socrates? He stands up calmly, looks to the sky, folds his hands in gratitude, and murmurs a quiet thank you. The crowd is stunned. One of them stammers, “What… what are you doing? Why are you thanking the heavens when you’ve just been burned?”
Socrates, with a serene smile, replies, “I’m grateful because only half my face was burned. It could have been worse—my entire face, or even my life, could have been taken. I’m thanking the divine for what was spared.”
Now, isn’t that a perspective shift? Where Vaisi saw loss in his gain, Socrates saw gain in his loss. This, my friends, is the essence of positive thinking and gratitude—a mindset that seeks the silver lining, no matter how dark the cloud. Socrates teaches us that true contentment lies in appreciating what remains, rather than lamenting what’s gone.
Let me share a little personal anecdote here. A few years ago, I missed out on a big opportunity I’d been working toward for months. I was crushed, replaying all the “what ifs” in my head. But then, I remembered a lesson much like this one. I sat down with a journal and wrote three things I still had—my health, my loved ones, and the chance to try again. That simple act of gratitude shifted something in me. The disappointment didn’t vanish, but it lost its sting. And I wonder, friends, what might change for you if you tried this too?
These stories—Vaisi’s fixation on unmet expectations and Socrates’ embrace of gratitude—point us to a universal truth: happiness is not in acquiring more, but in appreciating what’s already here. As I often say on this podcast, “Gratitude is the alchemy that turns ordinary moments into gold.” Imagine starting each day with a simple thank you—for the breath in your lungs, the roof over your head, the people who love you. There are millions in this world who dream of what you might take for granted. So, why not cultivate this habit? Take a month, just 30 days, and every morning, list three things you’re grateful for. I promise, you’ll feel a quiet peace settle into your soul.
And if you’re looking for deeper guidance on this journey, I recommend two incredible books: The Power of Less by Leo Babauta, which teaches us to find joy in simplicity, and Success Through a Positive Mental Attitude by Napoleon Hill and W. Clement Stone, a personal favorite that’s reshaped how I approach challenges. Both are available in audio format too, perfect for listening on the go.
Before we wrap up, let me leave you with one final thought, inspired by a humble fakir named Juned from yet another story in our collection. Juned, while walking a rocky path, stumbled and injured his foot badly. Bloodied and in pain, he sat down, folded his hands, and thanked the divine. A passerby scoffed, “Are you mad? Why thank God for a wound?” Juned replied softly, “I’m grateful it was just my foot. It could have been my head, my life. I’m thankful for what was spared.”
Friends, that’s the heart of today’s episode: living in the reality of now, not the illusion of “should be.” Let go of towering expectations, embrace gratitude for what you have, and watch how your world transforms. So, tell me—what are you grateful for today? Drop a note in the comments or send a message; I’d love to hear from you. Until next time, this is Life Philosophy, reminding you to seek the light, even in the shadows. Take care, and keep reflecting.