The field players were in position; the pitcher and the catcher were sharply focused, the first batter was geared up in his box, the referee yelled: play ball, and the game was on. The pitcher wound up and threw the first ball over home plate without the batter responding. Strike One, the referee observed.
~*~*~*~
Three months before Mike had been chosen for the first time to play with the standard team. He was young, seventeen, but because of his exceptional talent, willpower and many hours of training, he had succeeded at this young age to make it to the team. His rather considerable skills at bat, but most of all his fieldwork and his amazing proficiency at the short-stop position, had made all this happen.

Yet, his younger years were not promising at all. Right after birth, the pediatrician found a little rush in his heart and further research revealed only one functioning lung. An artery for the right lung was missing. So it seemed that his life ahead would be, physically speaking, not very active. Mike's school career passed on with ups and downs. During many years he had to miss almost one week each month of school and he lost track of the many visits to hospital which often extended to long periods of time. For that reason, he wasn't able to catch up at school and had to repeat classes a few times. Additionally, he was often bullied and beaten by classmates for no apparent reason.

Euphemistically, one could say he didn't get a very promising start. Yet, Mike always knew there would be a turning point one day. At the age of twelve he watched a baseball game during the Olympics and his heart was captured by it straight away. He had to and should play along with this game. That his physical condition probably interfered with this idea, was no obstacle to him. He signed up at the local baseball team and during his first trainings, two things became clear. In the first place it was obvious that he would be completely exhausted after every training, what up to here he was able to cover up quite well. Secondly, his coach was pleased to observe that Mike could deal with the complexities of the game quite well.

John, the American trainer who didn't know anything about Mike's limitations, soon approached the parents to determine if it was possible to improve his condition in the gym and suggesting to speed up his training to get him ready for the upcoming season.
~*~*~*~
If you really want to accomplish something, one of the criteria is that your family, all around you, stand strongly and unconditionally with you. This certainly was the case with Mike's parents, and more than that. They made it very clear to coach John that the ambitions of their son seemed impossible in the short run, but that they would do everything in their power to help him. That was their goal anyway. They intended to move heaven and earth to prepare their son for an ‘as good as it can get' future and were very aware that his ambitions would only help in accomplishing that.

The cardiologists and internists at the hospital were not hopeful, though. They pointed out that in theory, a lung transplant and a simultaneous heart operation, would be possible. Yet, much depended on the availability of a donor lung, the commitment of a surgical team, the necessary finances and Mike's condition for surgery which to date wasn't optimal for the known reasons.

Mike's father surfed the internet to investigate all possibilities. He faltered at a vast amount of alternative healers who without exception, didn't see much light at the horizon. None of them considered themselves competent enough to further Mike's oxygen absorption and in that way lift up his constant oxygen debt or even slightly improve it, to brighten Mike's future.

And still, dad Wesley did not give up. Gradually he and his wife came to the conclusion that Mike's determination could be the key to his success. An acupuncture practitioner was brought in who, with his needles, created more breathing space in Mike's chest. Physical therapy enhanced the boy's muscle mass. His common predisposition was boosted by nutritional supplements and homeopathic medicine. Since barely any of the costs were covered by the insurance companies, his mom Melanie accepted a job as a desk receptionist at an insurance company to cover all the expenses.

Yet, all of this didn't seem to be enough. The big reversal came after a dream where Mike -although initially he found this rather weird- seemed to be in direct contact with his grandfather who had passed away two years earlier. During that dream, grandpa assured him that if he really wanted, he would play the great finale in the metropolis in four years time and that he should hang on to this thought.

Afterwards, Mike noticed that his condition kept improving and a massive check-up at the Academic Hospital two years later showed that the so called Ventricle Septum Defect; the hole between both the heart chambers through which oxygen-poor venous blood formerly flowed into the arterial oxygen-rich bloodstream, had closed itself spontaneously. Moreover, the lung tissue of the remaining lung had been significantly improved.

Both these measurable physical values and the incalculable values of the senses, together with baseball team training made sure Mike wasn't sick that often any more. By then he was playing top of the stars at the local team and besides all this, going to school wasn't a threat any more. He became more popular each year, making good grades.
~*~*~*~
Again, two years later, he was ‘scouted' by the metropolitan baseball team. A nice contract was put before him which he, together with his brightly smiling and proud coach John, scrutinized thoroughly. They agreed that he and dad Wesley would take up negotiations with the ball players organization, so Mike could concentrate on his game. Until the day of the big match, he was lined up – to the great satisfaction of his field coach and other team players – as a short stop against lower opponents. And finally on the day of finale, against the huge competitor from H., he was again in the line up! For this occasion, placed in the outfield, with the possibility to move on to the short-stop position, if the weak arm of that player wouldn't make it to the end. The dream he once had about his grandfather, which Mike had not forgotten but always had taken with a grain of salt, had come true!

And the game itself? That reads itself as a young boy's book, with runs and home-runs for and against. During the first four innings the team from H. is ahead. Then Mike moves to the short stop position, where he throws a few fabulous double-plays whereby each time two opponents are out of the game. Eventually they win the championship. It is a victory for the entire team to which Mike has made a great contribution. On the way to the top, discipline is crucial. Even if this top is just a nice feeling. And you bet that with this championship, this tasted like more in a very extraordinary way.

‘Running Fox' is the alter ego, the pseudonym, or maybe another aspect of myself, Dutch writer Hans Brockhuis. I would like to label the writings I create today as, ‘inspired fiction'.

While writing these tales, I seem to be very much in a state of communion with someone who is residing somewhere in the unseen world. Ascended Master Lady Nada is a wonderful being and is widely known in the metaphysical circles in which you and I dwell. Despite the fact that the word nada, in many languages means ‘nothing', it is obvious that she is telling us humans everything, or also ‘filled with fullness.'

Once upon a time, somewhere in the woods near my hometown, I met this running fox, and it was then that I realized that this beautiful creature would be my totem animal and thus became the name under which these writings befall.

You may read more by visiting the English Language part of my website at www.runningfox.nl

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He was proud of himself, even though it was harder to do than he let on. A widowed aunt who lived with her children in the next tepee helped look after them some, but Lame Elk shouldered most of the parental duties for his siblings. That meant hunting for food, carrying the water from the stream, tending the fires and even the cooking. And that didn't even count the arrow and arrowhead making, tanning hides, repairing the tepee and tribal duties as well.

Lame Elk was determined to keep the family together and not have his siblings split up among the other families of the tribes. Besides, almost all the tepees had suffered their own losses due to the attack. There was much sadness and suffering in the village. Many of the elders had been killed or disabled and there were others his age having to do the same as he was doing. The normal ways of sharing and co-operation had also suffered as everyone was trying to hold their own because the chief had been slain a well. And even after all this time, there was still turmoil over who his successor would be. The tribe was in a grieving limbo without leadership.

Lame Elk, called Little Elk when he was younger, had earned his new name because he was granted permission to keep and wear his late father's moccasins. However the moccasins were too big and he walked with a very slight limping gait because of it. But the moccasins were his father's and his mother had just made them for him before they were slain. The beadwork was extraordinary and the deerskin was soft and supple. His aunt offered to refashion them so they fit better but Lame Elk refused. The name had started out as a friendly kidding by boyhood friends. He had tied leather strips around the moccasins to keep them from slipping so much but they just made them more uncomfortable. So the name stuck but he didn't mind too much. The name brought some levity into the dire circumstances that they were experiencing.

A few months prior to his parents' deaths he had been called by a vision to apprentice to the tribe's Shaman, Red Eagle, to learn the Medicine Ways of the Many Trails. However, his new responsibilities had now put constraints on his spiritual evolvement, but he vowed to continue with his lessons. It was his calling by the Creator.

Red Eagle had become not only a teacher to Lame Elk but also a fatherly figure as well.
The soft spoken but firm shaman was as important, if not more so, to Lame Elk as the lessons that he was teaching him.

Red Eagle knew of Lame Elk's quandary and so he wisely worked around his new role as head of the family. He arranged the lessons on days when there was plenty of food and hunting was not required or at night when the moon was just right. After all, his commitment to his shamanic journey would be never-ending.

The Medicine Ways of the Many Trails was very important to Lame Elk, but he was trying so hard to be father, mother and brother as well as shaman apprentice that it was more and more difficult for him to recoup his energy each day. There was an underlying sadness, resentment and sometimes anger to his demeanor that he masked.

However, today, Lame Elk was excited. He and Red Eagle were going to take a new trail called The Trail of Balance. He knew that it would be an arduous trek as it was up into the mountains on a hidden, winding and treacherous path that few had traveled before. The trip would take two days or more, but he had brought home enough meat to share with other families who in turn would take care of his family while he was gone.

Lame Elk's father had taught him well in the art of the hunt. Red Eagle had taught him to ask the animals for permission to hunt them for food during his nightly meditations. He always thanked the animals for their sacrifice. Thus, he was a very successful hunter even though there were times that the moccasins caused him to lose a good shot due to his shuffling or from a sudden pain from a stone or stick that had made its way into one of them.

In the early morning, as they started up the trail, the sun was bright and there were a few wispy clouds that seemed to be painted on the sky by the Creator. The canvas was occasionally enhanced by the silhouette of a soaring eagle or hawk overhead. The air was, both, cool and warm, at the same time.

The trail was as Lame Elk had imagined. It was steep and, in many spots, too narrow for them to walk alongside one another. Sometimes the edge of one side of the trail disappeared into a silent abyss. It was cluttered with rocks and fallen limbs that proved its disuse. Thorny vines pulled at their leather garments as they walked. Sometimes the sounds of a faint, hidden rattling broke the momentary silence of the trail. But to Lame Eagle it provided an adventure of an undaunted daring and, at the same time, a catharsis for his spirit. The occasional growl of a distant bear or the scream of a lonely puma made it even more exhilarating, surging his hunter instincts.

As they walked side by side on the wider part of the trail, Red Eagle showed him the plants that made good medicine and what they were used for and how to prepare them. He was very detailed in his telling so that Lame Elk would remember the lessons.

They continued on their walk while Red Eagle talked to the plants, trees, rocks and animals along the way. He was teaching Lame Elk how to read the energy signatures of each. He was also teaching him to be spiritually balanced with all things around him. He wanted Lame Elk to respect that all things are alive with spirit and to know, that by listening beyond his ears, he could hear them communicating with him.

We are connected in spirit to all things in this universe and all things are connected to us and we are all connected to the Creator as One, Red Eagle told Lame Elk. We are all a part of the Creator's Web of Life that stretches beyond the stars, he continued. Before you go on your Vision Quest, I will take you on a mutual vision to the Top of the World where you can see its vastness.

However as they walked, he noticed that Lame Elk was limping more than usual. He said nothing, as it was up to his apprentice to speak of it first.

As they traveled upward toward the summit and talked about all the things that Lame Elk had learned this first day, Red Eagle noticed that his limp was becoming even more pronounced than before. He still said nothing. Instead, he pointed to a line of ants on the ground. He drew Lame Elk's attention to how they shared the work and seemed to go about their duties as of one mind, carrying the heavier crumbs together.

One of the major lessons on the Trail of Balance, said Red Eagle, is that one has to be balanced at all times with Nature, Mother Earth and especially within oneself. Balance is imperative in all that you do in this lifetime as a warrior, as a hunter and as a shaman. As long as you are balanced, you can achieve wonders, even against many odds, Red Elk told him. Balance is also necessary in your personal and family life as well as in your spiritual aspect.

Lame Elk hung on every word that Red Eagle spoke even though, at times, he seemed somewhat distracted to his teacher.

After they reached the summit, they made a campfire and got ready to settle in for the night while the lessons continued.

As they sat quietly in front of the fire dining on smoked deer jerky, Lame Elk began rubbing his feet through his moccasins and wincing as he did. Finally, Lame Elk broke the silence. My feet are really hurting. The pain runs all the way up to my head.

Why don't you take off your moccasins? asked Red Eagle.

Lame Elk reluctantly complied. A dozen or more small stones fell out of each moccasin as he took he took them off.

Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you get rid of the stones earlier? queried Red Eagle in a puzzled tone.

I felt that I had to do what was expected of me and not complain on this special trail that we are on, answered Lame Elk. Besides, my moccasins are so big that even if I dumped out the stones I would have just gotten more. At least this way, no more could get in them. I thought that I was getting use to them, but I guess I wasn't.

Red Eagle chuckled out loud but not so loudly as to offend the young student.

Why have you not let your aunt remake the moccasins for you so that they fit, asked Red Eagle.

I don't want to offend my mother by altering what she had made for my father and I don't want to dishonor my father by changing what was his, answered Lame Elk. Besides, I will grow into them.

Red Eagle looked at the young brave with compassion but maintained his teacher composure.

Lame Elk, since your parents' deaths you have sacrificed much for your family just as do the animals that make their own sacrifices so your hunt will be successful. You sacrifice your own poise by wearing moccasins that gather even more burdens for you to carry on your walk. Before you grow into them, they will have been worn away by the stones and uneven wear.

What can I do? asked Lame Elk with frustration.

You are not on this journey alone, my young apprentice. As with the other families in the village you must make changes. You and the others in the village must adapt to the losses that you have suffered, answered Red Eagle. You must look for new ways of balance.

First of all, now that you have rid your moccasins of the stones, do as I suggest. Take the stones and throw them as far as you can. Release their hold on you. They are no more in your life. Then take your moccasins over to the stream and soak them thoroughly.

But that will ruin them. They will crack and become hard. My mother took great pains in making them soft and comfortable, replied Lame Elk with deep concern.

If you do as I suggest, they will be as soft as before. After you have soaked them put them back on your feet and let them dry by our fire. Then as they are just about dry and shrinking to your feet, rub this oil all over them and let them finish drying. The oils will also keep them from cracking when they get wet in the future. Red Eagle said.

To Lame Elk's amazement, after the moccasins had completely dried, they fit his feet perfectly and because of the oils they were just as soft as before. They were just as his mother had made them except they were smaller. At first, he walked. Then he ran around the campsite, making high pitched whooping calls. He no longer had any limp at all. Lame Elk felt reborn.

Maybe we should change your name to Running Elk now, laughed Red Eagle.

No I will keep my name. It has helped lead me to this truth Lame Elk stated with pride.

And what truth is that? asked Red Eagle.

That there are other ways to do things without changing the essence of what is already.
You showed me how to fix my moccasins without altering what my mother had made as they would have been had my aunt reworked them to fit me.

And how does that relate to balance? asked Red Eagle.

Now that I am able to walk more freely I can do things without having to think about my moccasins. So now I can concentrate my attention on more important things. And I won't be collecting any more stones. I won't feel so fettered and frustrated, gleefully shouted Lame Elk.

How can you make similar changes in your family life? How can you become more balanced and lighten some more of your load? Red Eagle questioned.

My brother and sisters are getting older, so I can teach them how to do some of the chores that I have been doing by myself. They can help fetch the water, keep the campfire going, collect the wood, pick berries, and tan hides. I will even teach my sisters to cook. And I can share that with the other young men of the tribe who are doing the same thing. We can work together to share the work just like the ants. Without the chief, we have all seemed lost in our ways, replied Lame Elk with a more controlled voice.

Sounds like you are beginning to understand. But, Lame Elk, I would let your aunt teach your sisters how to cook. I have tasted your cooking, laughed Red Eagle.

And how will all of this help in balance? questioned Red Eagle.

I will be able to devote more time to my lessons, meditations, tribal duties and honing my hunting skills, answered Lame Elk. I will be happier without feeling so resentful and stronger with less fatigue.

You are beginning to learn your lessons, remarked Red Eagle. But we have many lessons in balance yet to go. These lessons have just touched on the ways of balance in the various aspects of who you are. You must keep your body strong, your mind sharp and alert, your emotions fluid and your spirit soaring.

Tomorrow we will make our way back down the other side of the trail and I will teach you more about balance, Red Eagle said with his eyes twinkling. We have a long, narrow rock bridge over a deep, deep crevasse to cross.

This spiritual story was written by Bruce Bevens.

The post Moccasin Balance appeared first on Spiritual Growth Events.

Undisturbed, the master did not draw his bow, but rather motioned for the young archer to follow him up the mountain. Curious about the old fellow's intentions, the champion followed him high into the mountain until they reached a deep chasm spanned by a rather flimsy and shaky log.

Calmly stepping out onto the middle of the unsteady and certainly perilous bridge, the old master picked a far away tree as a target, drew his bow, and fired a clean, direct hit.

“Now it is your turn,” he said as he gracefully stepped back onto the safe ground. Staring with terror into the seemingly bottomless and beckoning abyss, the young man could not force himself to step out onto the log, no less shoot at a target.

“You have much skill with your bow,” the master said, sensing his challenger's predicament, “but you have little skill with the mind that lets loose the shot.”

Paulo Coelho is a Brazilian author who has sold more than 100 million books, which include 14 short story collections and the novel “The Alchemist.”

If you liked this story, you'll love this list of popular spiritual short stories!

What Is the Spiritual Moral / Meaning of Paulo Coelho's “Concentration” Story?

Within this parable, woven between the lines, lies a profound spiritual teaching that transcends the mere act of archery. It beckons us to explore the intricate relationship between technical prowess and the mastery of the mind. At its core, this story unveils the vital importance of cultivating not only external skill but also inner balance and mastery, emphasizing that true strength emerges from the depths of a disciplined mind.

The Zen master's response to the young archer's boastfulness encapsulates the essence of humility. Despite the champion's remarkable display of technical proficiency, the master's calm demeanor and unassuming nature underscore the transformative power of humility. It serves as a gentle reminder that arrogance blinds us to the vast expanses of knowledge waiting to be discovered. Through humility, one can transcend the limitations of ego, paving the path toward true wisdom.

The pivotal moment atop the perilous bridge illuminates the significance of courage and the conquest of inner fears. The young archer, despite his outward bravado, was unable to confront the daunting abyss before him. It speaks to the courage required not just in facing external challenges but, more importantly, in navigating the depths of our own inner uncertainties. The true test lies not in the mastery of external feats but in the conquest of our inner doubts and fears.

The Zen master's gentle guidance toward the young archer exposes the profound distinction between technical skill and the state of mind from which our actions emerge. It echoes the timeless truth that our outer achievements are intricately intertwined with the quality of our inner being. The mastery of the mind that propels the action is as crucial as the action itself. It invites us to ponder: What is the state of our mind when we unleash our capabilities upon the world? Are our actions rooted in centeredness and mindfulness?

The deep wisdom encapsulated in this story invites contemplation on the nature of true mastery. Beyond the external displays of proficiency, it shines a light on the essence of mastery that transcends skill alone. It beckons us to journey inward, to explore the depths of our consciousness, and to cultivate a state of inner harmony and mindfulness. True mastery, it suggests, emerges not solely from the technical prowess but from the alignment of mind, body, and spirit.

Ultimately, this story serves as a mirror, reflecting back to us the intricate dance between outer accomplishments and inner development. It invites us to reassess our definitions of success and mastery, emphasizing the indispensable role of a disciplined mind in all our endeavors. It whispers to us that our greatest conquest lies not in the external world but in the mastery of our own minds—a journey that unfolds in each moment, guiding us toward a deeper understanding of ourselves and the world around us.

The post Concentration – Spiritual Story by Paulo Coelho appeared first on Spiritual Growth Events.

As he was served by his friend, the Zen swordsman could not help but notice how the tea master performed his art with perfect concentration and tranquility. “Tomorrow,” the Zen swordsman said, “when you duel the soldier, hold your weapon above your head, as if ready to strike, and face him with the same concentration and tranquility with which you perform the tea ceremony.”

The next day, at the appointed time and place for the duel, the tea master followed this advice. The soldier, readying himself to strike, stared for a long time into the fully attentive but calm face of the tea master. Finally, the soldier lowered his sword, apologized for his arrogance, and left without a blow being struck.

The author of this spiritual story is unknown and greatly appreciated. If you know who wrote this, or can provide a source that I can cite then please contact me and let me know!

Also, if you decide to reprint this story on your website, you do not need to include this author biography box… please just link back to http://www.Spiritual-Short-Stories.com

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