The Ego's Last Attack: "The Golden Door"

The Golden Door

A Sufi Story 

Two men prayed, and went their separate ways. One gathered wealth and power, people said he was famous, but there was no peace in him. The other saw the hearts of men - glowing as lamps even in the darkness of their own secret fears. He too had found richness and power; and his wealth, his power, was love. When simply, kindly, tenderly he touched his fellowmen with all the richness and power of this love, the light within grew clear and bright with courage and with peace.

Both men one day stood before that golden door through which all men must pass to the greater life beyond. The angel in the soul of each asked, "What do you bring with you? What have you to give?"....

God always asks, "What do you bring with you? What have you to give?" God goes on giving to you, but finally, the last day before you enter into his innermost shrine, he asks, "Now, what have you brought for me? What's your gift for me?"

... The one who was famous recounted his exploits. Why, there was no end to the people he knew, and the places he had been, and the things he had done - and the things he had accumulated.

But the angel answered, "These are not acceptable. These things that you did, you did for yourself. I see no love in them"....

If there is ego, there cannot be love. Remember this. I am going to discuss it later on, because it is one of the most important things: if there is ego there can be no love.

... And the famous one sank outside the golden door and wept....

For the first time he could see the whole futility of all his efforts. It was almost like a dream that has passed and his hands are empty. If you are too full of things, one day or other you will see your hands are empty. It was dream stuff that you were carrying in your hands; they have always been empty. You were just dreaming that something is there. Because you were afraid of emptiness, you had projected something, you had believed. You have never looked deeply whether really it is there or not.

... And the famous man sank outside the golden door and wept. He had been too busy to be kind....

Too occupied to love, too engaged to be himself, too concerned with futile things to be concerned with the essential.

... Then the angel in the soul of the other asked, "And what do you bring? What have you to give?"

And he answered, saying, "No one knows my name. They called me the wanderer, the dreamer. I have only a little light in my heart, and that which I have, I have shared with the souls of men"....

The real people look like dreamers in this world of mad people. Always the sages have been known as wanderers, dreamers, poets, imaginative, living somewhere, lotus-eaters, navel-gazers. These types of labels have been given to real people because the world belongs to 'paper people'. They are not real. Paper people, whenever they come across a real person, call him "dreamer," "poet." That is their way of condemning him, and that is their way of defending themselves.

... And he answered, saying, "No one knows my name. They called me the wanderer, the dreamer. I have only a little light in my heart - nothing else, just a little light in my heart - and that which I have, I have shared with the souls of men."

Then the angel said, "Oh, blessed one, you have the greatest gift of all. It is love. Always and always, there is enough and to spare. Enter"....

That's the beauty of love: the more you give, the more you have it. Let this be a criterion in yom life: don't accumulate that which by giving disappears; only accumulate that which by giving accumulates. Only accumulate that which by sharing increases and grows. That is worth which you can share and by its very sharing it grows and you have more than before.

... "Always and always, there is enough and to spare. Enter."

Then said the wanderer, "But first let me give the extra measure to my brother, that we may both walk through the door."

The angel was silent; for in that moment a great light shone around the simple wanderer like a radiant mantle, enveloping both himself and his friend.

The golden door was opened wide and they walked through it together.

He shared at the very last moment also. This is real richness. A miser is never rich; if you are attached to things in the world, you are not rich. Richness arises out of the heart.

Richness is a quality of the heart, glowing with love.