One day a farmer's donkey fell down into a well. The animal cried piteously for hours as the farmer tried to figure out what to do. Finally, he decided the animal was old, and the well needed to be covered up anyway; it just wasn't worth it to retrieve the donkey. He invited all his neighbors to come over and help him. They all grabbed a shovel and began to shovel dirt into the well. At first, the donkey realized what was happening and cried horribly. Then, to everyone's amazement he quieted down. A few shovel loads later, the farmer finally Looked down the well. He was astonished at what he saw. With each shovel of dirt that hit his back, the donkey was doing something amazing. He would shake it off and take a step up. As the farmer's neighbors continued to shovel dirt on top of the Animal, he would shake it off and take a step up. Pretty soon, everyone was amazed as the donkey stepped up over the edge of the well and happily trotted off!

Life is going to shovel dirt on you, all kinds of dirt. The trick to getting out of the well is to shake it off and take a step up. Each of our troubles is a steppingstone. We can get out of the deepest wells just by not stopping, never giving up! Shake it off and take a step up.

Remember the five simple rules to be happy:

You just got finished smoking on the outside of the church and then try to lead a song, get choked up, holding your throat and say to the congregation, "The devil don't want me to sing this song."

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Legend of Crystals and stuff. In ancient times, people lived in harmony with Nature. They spoke the same language as the animals and plants. They hunted for food only to satisfy their hunger and needs, always offering prayer of thanks for what they had taken from Nature.

As time went on, humans lost this innocence and harmony. They took more than they needed. They forgot their prayers of gratitude. They killed animals, and each other, for sport or pleasure.

The Bear Tribe, chief among the animals, called a meeting of all the animals. They decided that something had to be done. The Bears suggested that they shoot back when the humans shot at them, but the bow and arrow required too great a sacrifice, for one bear would have to give up his life so that his sinew could be used for the bowstring. The bear's claws were too long for shooting a bow anyway, and would become entangled on the string.

The Deer Tribe offered another method of dealing with the problem. One of their members said, "We will bring disease into the world. Each of us will be responsible for a different illness. When humans live out of balance with Nature, when they forget to give thanks for their food, they will get sick." And in fact the Deer did invoke rheumatism and arthritis; each animal then decided to invoke a different disease.

The Plant Tribe was more sympathetic and felt that this was too harsh a punishment, so they volunteered their help. They said that for every disease a human gets, one of them would be present to cure it. That way, if people used their intelligence, they would be able to cure their ailments and regain their balance.

All of Nature agreed to this strategy. One plant in particular spoke out. This was Tobacco, the chief of the plants. He said, "I will be the sacred herb. I will not cure any specific disease, but I will help people return to the sacred way of life, provided I am smoked or offered with prayers and ceremony. But if I am misused, if I am merely smoked for pleasure, I will cause cancer, the worst disease of all." The close friends of the Plant Tribe, the Rock Tribe and the Mineral Tribe, agreed to help. Each mineral would have a spiritual power, a subtle vibration that could be used to regain perfect health.

The Ruby, worn as an amulet, would heal the heart; the Emerald would heal the liver and eyes, and so on. The chief of the mineral tribe, Quartz Crystal, was clear, like the light of Creation itself. Quartz put his arms around his brother Tobacco and said, "I will be the sacred mineral. I will heal the mind. I will help human beings see the origin of disease. I will help to bring wisdom and clarity in dreams. And I will record their spiritual history, including our meeting today, so that in the future, if humans gaze into me, they may see their origin and the way of harmony."

And so it is today. This is a Cherokee legend, but it has been told in almost every tribe in the Americas. It tells of an ancient time of peace, a mythical homeland known to every culture on Earth.

The Native Americans call it the "old way" or the "origina Way".

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If Buddha and Nietzsche were confronted, could either produce any argument that ought to appeal to the impartial listener? I am not thinking of political arguments. We can imagine them appearing before the Almighty, as in the first chapter of the Book of Job, and offering advice as to the sort of world He would create. What could either say?

Buddha would open the argument by speaking of lepers, outcast and miserable; the poor, toiling with aching limbs and barely kept alive by scanty nourishment; the wounded in battle, dying in slow agony; the orphans, ill-treated by cruel guardians; and even the most successful haunted by the thought of failure and death. From all this load of sorrow, he would say, a way of salvation must be found, and salvation can only come through love.

Nietzsche, whom only Omnipotence could restrain from interrupting, would burst out when his turn came.

"Good heavens, man, you must learn to be of tougher fibre. Why go about sniveling because trivial people suffer? Or, for that matter, because great men suffer? Trivial people suffer trivially, great men suffer greatly, and great sufferings are not to be regretted, because they are noble. Your ideal is a purely negative one, absence of suffering, which can be completely secured by non-existence. I, on the other hand, have positive ideals: I admire Alcibiades, and the Emperor Frederick II, and Napoleon. For the sake of such men, any misery is worth while. I appeal to You, Lord, as the greatest of creative artists, do not let Your artistic impulses be curbed by the degenerate fear-ridden maunderings of this wretched psychopath."

Buddha, who in the courts of Heaven has learnt all history since his death, and has mastered science with delight in the knowledge and sorrow at the use to which men have put it, replies with calm urbanity:

"You are mistaken, Professor Nietzsche, in thinking my ideal a purely negative one. True, it includes a negative element, the absence of suffering; but it has in addition quiet as much that is positive as it to be found in your doctrine. Though I have no special admiration for Alcibiades and Napoleon, I, too, have my heroes: my successor Jesus, because he told men to love their enemies; the men who discovered how to master the forces of nature and secure food with less labour; the medical men who have shown how to diminish disease; the poets and artists and musicians who have caught glimpses of the Divine beatitude. Love and knowledge and delight in beauty are not negations; they are enough to fill the lives of the greatest men that have ever lived." "All the same," Nietzsche replies, "your world would be insipid. You should study Heraclitus, whose works survive complete in the celestial library. Your love is compassion, which is elicited by pain; your truth, if you are honest, is unpleasant, and only to be known through suffering; and as to beauty, what is more beautiful than the tiger, who owes his splendour to his fierceness? No, if the Lord should decide for your world, I fear we would all die of boredom." "You might," Buddha replies, "because you love pain, and your love of life is a sham. But those who really love life would be happy as no one can be happy in the world as it is."

For my part, I agree with Buddha as I have imagined him. But I do not know how to prove that he is right by any argument such as can be used in a mathematical or a scientific question. I dislike him Nietzsche because he likes the contemplation of pain, because he erects conceit into a duty, because the men whom he most admires are conquerors, whose glory is cleverness in causing men to die. But I think the ultimate argument against his philosophy, as against any unpleasant but internally self-consistent ethic, lies not in an appeal to facts, but in an appeal to emotions. Nietzsche despises universal love; I feel it the motive power to all that I desire as regards the world. His followers have had their innings, but we may hope that it is coming rapidly to an end.

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