Maktub Paulo Coelho Dedicated to Nha Chica "Maktub"

Maktub
Paulo Coelho
Dedicated to Nha Chica
“Maktub” means “It is written.” The Arabs feel that “It is written” is not really a good translation,
because, although everything is already written, God is compassionate, and wrote it all down just to help
us.
The wanderer is inNew York . He has overslept an appointment, and when he leaves his hotel, he finds
that his car has been towed by the police. He arrives late for his appointment, the luncheon lasts longer
than necessary, and he is thinking about the fine he will have to pay. It will cost a fortune. Suddenly, he
remembers the dollar bill he found in the street the day before. He sees some kind of weird relationship
between the dollar bill and what happened to him that morning. “Who knows, perhaps I found that
money before the person who was supposed to find it had the chance? Maybe I removed that dollar bill
from the path of someone who really needed it. Who knows but what I interfered with what was
written?” He feels the need to rid himself of the dollar bill, and at that moment sees a beggar sitting on the
sidewalk. He quickly hands him the bill, and feels that he has restored a kind of equilibrium to things.
“Just a minute,” says the beggar. “I'm not looking for a handout. I'm a poet, and I want to read you a
poem in return.” “Well, make it a short one, because I'm in a hurry,” says the wanderer. The beggar says,
“If you are still living, it's because you have not yet arrived at the place you should be.”
Think of the lizard. It spends most of its life on the ground, envying the birds and indignant at its fate and
its shape. “I am the most disliked of all the creatures,” it thinks. “Ugly, repulsive, and condemned to
crawl along the ground.” One day, though, Mother Nature asks the lizard to make a cocoon. The lizard
is startled -it has never made a cocoon before. He thinks that he is building his tomb, and prepares to die.
Although unhappy with the life he has led up until then, he complains to God: “Just when I finally became
accustomed to things, Lord, you take away what little I have.” In desperation, he locks himself into the
cocoon and awaits the end. Some days later, he finds that he has been transformed into a beautiful
butterfly. He is able to fly to the sky, and he is greatly admired. He is surprised at the meaning of life and
at God's designs.
A stranger sought out the Father Superior at the monastery of Sceta. “I want to make my life better,” he
said. “But I cannot keep myself from having sinful thoughts.” The father noticed that the wind was
blowing briskly outside, and said to the stranger: “It's quite hot in here. I wonder if you could seize a bit
of that wind outside and bring it here to cool the room.” “That's impossible,” the stranger said. “It is also
impossible to keep yourself from thinking of things that offend God,” answered the monk. “But, if you
know how to say no to temptation, they will cause you no harm.”
The master says: “If a decision needs to be made, it is better to make it and deal with the consequences.
You cannot know beforehand what those consequences will be. The arts of divination were developed in
order to counsel people, never to predict the future. They provide good advice, but poor prophecy. “In
one of the prayers that Jesus taught us, it says, 'God's will be done. ' When His will causes a problem, it

also presents a solution. If the arts of divination were able to predict the future, every soothsayer would
be wealthy, married and content.”
The disciple approached his master: “For years I have been seeking illumination,” he said. “I feel that I
am close to achieving it. I need to know what the next step is.” “How do you support yourself?” the
master asked. “I haven't yet learned how to support myself; my parents help me out. But that is only a
detail.” “Your next step is to look directly at the sun for half a minute,” said the master. And the disciple
obeyed. When the half-minute was over, the master asked him to describe the field that surrounded
them. “I can't see it. The sun has affected my vision,” the disciple said. “A man who seeks only the light,
while shirking his responsibilities, will never find illumination. And one who keep his eyes fixed upon the
sun ends up blind,” was the master's comment.
A man was hiking through a valley in thePyrenees , when he met an old shepherd. He shared his food
with him, and they sat together for a long time, talking about life. The man said that, if one believed in
God, he would also have to admit that he was not free, since God would govern every step. In response,
the shepherd led him to a ravine where one could hear -with absolute clarity -the echo to any sound.
“Life is these walls, and fate is the shout that each of us makes,” said the shepherd. “What we do will be
raised to His heart, and will be returned to us in the same form. “God acts as the echo of our own
deeds.”
The master said: “When we sense that the time has come for a change, we begin -unconsciously -to run
the tape again, to view every defeat we have experienced until then. “And, of course, as we grow older,
our number of difficult moments grows larger. But, at the same time, experience provides us with better
means of overcoming those defeats, and of finding the path that allows us to go forward. We have to play
that second tape on our mental VCR, too. “If we only watch the tape of our defeats, we become
paralyzed. If we only watch the tape of our successes, we wind up thinking we are wiser than we really
are. “We need both of those tapes.”
The disciple said to his master: “I have spent most of the day thinking about things I should not be
thinking about, desiring things I should not desire and making plans I should not be making.” The master
invited the disciple to take a walk with him through the forest behind his house. Along the way, he
pointed to a plant, and asked the disciple if he knew its name. “Belladonna,” said the disciple. “It can kill
anyone who eats its leaves.” “But it cannot kill anyone who simply observes it,” said the master.
“Likewise, negative desires can cause no evil if you do not allow yourself to be seduced by them.”
BetweenFrance andSpain is a range of mountains. In one of those mountains, there is a village named
Argeles, and in the village is a hill leading to the valley. Every afternoon, an old man climbs and descends
the hill. When the wanderer went to Argeles for the first time, he was not aware of this. On his second
visit, he noticed that he crossed paths with the same man. And every time he went to the village, he
perceived the man in greater detail -his clothing, his beret, his cane, his glasses. Nowadays, whenever he
thinks about that village, he thinks of the old man, as well -even though he is not aware that this is true.
Only once did the wanderer ever speak to the man. In a joking fashion, he asked the man, “Do you think
that God lives in these beautiful mountains surrounding us?” “God lives,” said the old man, “in those
places where they allow Him to enter.”
The master met one night with his disciples, and asked them to build a campfire so they could sit and
talk. “The spiritual path is like a fire that burns before us,” he said. “A man who wants to light the fire has
to bear with the disagreeable smoke that makes it difficult for him to breathe, and brings tears to his eyes.
That is how his faith is rediscovered. However, once the fire is rekindled, the smoke disappears, and the
flames illuminate everything around him -providing heat and tranquility.” “But what if someone else lights
the fire for him?” asked one of the disciples. “And if someone helps us to avoid the smoke?” “If someone

does that, he is a false master. A master capable of taking the fire to wherever he desires, or of
extinguishing it whenever he wants to do so. And, since he has taught no one how to light the fire, he is
likely to leave everyone in the darkness.”
“When you strike out along your path, you will find a door with a phrase written upon it,” says the
master. “Come back to me, and tell me what the phrase says.” The disciple gives himself to the search,
body and soul, and one day comes upon the door, and then returns to his master. “What was written
there was 'THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE,' he says.” “Was that written on a wall or on a door?” the master
asks. “On a door,” the disciple answers. “Well, then, put your hand on the doorknob and open it.” The
disciple obeyed. Since the phrase was painted with the door, it gave way just as the door itself did. With
the door completely open, he could no longer see the phrase -and he went on.
The master says: “Close your eyes. Or even with your eyes open, imagine the following scene: a flock of
birds on the wing. Now, tell me how many birds you saw: Five? Eleven? Sixteen? Whatever the
response -and it is difficult for someone to say how many birds were seen -one thing becomes quite clear
in this small experiment. You can imagine a flock of birds, but the number of birds in the flock is beyond
your control. Yet the scene was clear, well-defined, exact. There must be an answer to the question.
Who was it that determined how many birds should appear in the imagined scene? Not you!”
A man decided to visit a hermit who, he had been told, lived not far from the monastery at Sceta. After
wandering aimlessly about the desert, he finally found the monk. “I need to know what is the first step
that should be taken along the spiritual path,” he said. The hermit took the man to a small well, and told
him to look at his reflection in the water. The man tried to do so, but as he made his attempt, the hermit
threw pebbles into the water, causing the surface to be disturbed. “I won't be able to see my face in the
water if you keep throwing those pebbles,” said the man. “Just as it is impossible for a man to see his
face in tro??6t? ?TI have been thinking about how to make this news less difficult to hear -how to paint it
in brighter colors, add to it promises of Paradise, visions of the Absolute, provide esoteric explanations
-but they do not apply. Take a deep breath, and prepare yourself. I have to be blunt, and I assure you, I
am absolutely certain of what I'm telling you. It is an infallible prediction, without any doubt whatsoever.
It's the following: you are going to die. It may be tomorrow or fifty years from now, but -sooner or later
--you are going to die. Even if you would rather not. Even if you have other plans. Think carefully about
what you are going to do today. And tomorrow. And with the rest of your life.”
An explorer, a white man, anxious to reach his destination in the heart ofAfrica , promised an extra
payment to his bearers if they would make greater speed. For several days, the bearers moved along at a
faster pace. One afternoon, though, they all suddenly put down their burden and sat on the ground. No
matter how much money they were offered, they refused to move on. When the explorer finally asked
why they were behaving as they were, he was given the following answer: “We have been moving along
at such a fast pace that we no longer know what we are doing. Now we have to wait until our soul
catches up with us.”
Our Lady, with the infant Jesus in her arms, came down to earth to visit a monastery. In their joy, the
padres stood in line to pay their respects: one of them recited poetry, another showed Her illuminated
images for the Bible, another recited the names of all of the saints. At the end of the line was a humble
padre who had never had the chance to learn from the wise men of his time. His parents were simple
people who worked in a traveling circus. When his turn came, the monks wanted to end the payment of
respects, fearful that he would damage their image. But he, too, wanted to show his love for the Virgin.
Embarrassed, and sensing the disapproval of the brothers, he took some oranges from his pocket and
began to toss them in the air -juggling as his parents with the circus had taught him. It was only then that
the infant Jesus smiled and clapped his hands with joy. And it was only to the humble monk that the
Virgin held out her arms, allowing him to hold her Son for a while.

Do not always try to be consistent. Saint Paul, after all, said, “The wisdom of the world is madness in the
eyes of God.” To be consistent is always to wear a tie that matches one's socks. It is to have the same
opinions tomorrow as one has today. And the movement of the planet? Where is it? So long as you do
no harm to another, change your opinion once in a while. Contradict yourself without being embarrassed.
This is your right. It doesn't matter what others think -because that's what they will think, in any case. So,
relax. Let the universe move about. Discover the joy of surprising yourself. “God selected the crazy
things on the earth so as to embarrass the wise men,” saidSaint Paul .
The master says: “Today would be a good day for doing something out of the ordinary. We could, for
example, dance through the streets on our way to work. Look directly into the eyes of a stranger, and
speak of love at first sight. Give the boss an idea that may seem ridiculous, an idea we've never
mentioned before. The Warriors of the Light allow themselves such days. Today, we could cry over
some ancient injustices that still stick in our craw. We could phone someone we vowed never to speak to
again (but from whom we would love to receive a message on the answering machine). Today could be
considered a day outside the script that we write every morning. Today, any fault will be permitted and
forgiven. Today is a day to enjoy life.”
The scientist, Roger Penrose, was walking with some friends and talking animatedly. He fell silent only in
order to cross the street. “I remember that -as I was crossing the street -an incredible idea came to me,”
Penrose said. “But, as soon as we reached the other side, we picked up where we left off, and I couldn't
remember what I thought of just a few seconds earlier.” Late in the afternoon, Penrose began to feel
euphoric -without knowing why. “I had the feeling that something had been revealed to me,” he said. He
decided to go back over every minute of the day, and -when he remembered the moment when he was
crossing the street -the idea came back to him. This time, he wrote it down. It was the theory of black
holes, a revolutionary theory in modern physics. And it came back to him because Penrose was able to
recall the silence that we always fall into as we cross a street. Saint Anton was living in the desert when a
young man approached him. “Father, I sold everything I owned, and gave the proceeds to the poor. I
kept only a few things that could help me to survive out here. I would like you to show me the path to
salvation.”
Saint Anton asked that the lad sell the few things that he had kept, and -with the money -buy some meat
in the city. When he returned, he was to strap the meat to his body. The young man did as he was
instructed. As he was returning, he was attacked by dogs and falcons who wanted the meat. “I'm back,”
said the young man, showing the father his wounded body and his tattered clothing. “Those who embark
in a new direction and want to keep a bit of the old life, wind up lacerated by their own past,” said the
saint.
The master says: “Make use of every blessing that God gave you today. A blessing cannot be saved.
There is no bank where we can deposit blessings received, to use them when we see fit. If you do not
use them, they will be irretrievably lost. God knows that we are creative artists when it comes to our
lives. On one day, he gives us clay for sculpting, on another, brushes and canvas, or a pen. But we can
never use clay on our canvas, nor pens in sculpture. Each day has its own miracle. Accept the blessings,
work, and create your minor works of art today. Tomorrow you will receive others.”
The monastery on the bank of the Rio Piedra is surrounded by beautiful vegetation -it is a true oasis
within the sterile fields of that part ofSpain . There, the small river becomes a mighty current, and is split
into dozens of waterfalls. The wanderer is walking through the area, hearing the music of the waters.
Suddenly, a grotto -behind one of the cataracts -captures his attention. He studies the rocks, worn by
time, and regards the lovely forms created patiently by nature. And he finds a verse by R. Tagore
inscribed on a plaque: “It was not a hammer that made these rocks so perfect, but water -with its

sweetness, its dance and its song.” Where force can only destroy, gentleness can sculpt.
The master says: “Many people are fearful of happiness. For such persons, to be content in life means
they must change a number of their habits -and lose their sense of identity. Often we become indignant at
the good things that befall us. We do not accept them, because to do so causes us to feel that we are in
God's debt. We think: 'Better not to drink from the chalice of happiness, because, when it is empty, we
will suffer greatly. ' Out of a fear of shrinking, we fail to grow. Out of a fear of weeping, we fail to laugh.”
One afternoon at the monastery at Sceta, one of the monks offended another. The superior of the
monastery, Brother Sisois, asked that the offended monk forgive his aggressor. “I cannot do that,”
responded the monk. “It was he that did this, and it he who must pay.” At that very moment, Brother
Sisois raised his arms to heaven and began to pray: “My Jesus, we no longer have need of thee. We are
now capable of making the aggressor pay for his offenses. We are now able to take vengeance into our
own hands, and to deal with Good and Evil. Therefore, You can leave us on our own, and their will be
no problem.” Ashamed, the monk immediately pardoned his brother.
A disciple said, “All masters say that spiritual treasure is discovered through solitary search. So, then,
why are we all together here?” “You are together because a forest is always stronger than a solitary
tree,” the master answered. “The forest conserves humidity, resists the hurricane and helps the soil to be
fertile. But what makes a tree strong is its roots. And the roots of a plant cannot help another plant to
grow. To be joined together in the same purpose is to allow each person to grow in his own fashion, and
that is the path of those who wish to commune with God.”
When the wanderer was ten years old, his mother insisted that he take a course in physical education.
One of the activities required him to jump from a bridge into a river. Early in the course, he was
paralyzed by fear. Each day, he stood last in line, and suffered every time one of those in front made his
jump -because it would shortly be his turn. One day, the instructor -noticing his fear -made him take the
first jump. Although he was still frightened, it was over so quickly that the fright was replaced by courage.
The master says: “Often, we can afford to take our time. But there are occasions when we must roll up
our sleeves and resolve a situation. In such cases, there is nothing worse than delay.”
Buddha was seated among his disciples one morning when a man approached the gathering. “Does God
exist,” he asked. “Yes, God exists,” Buddha answered. After lunch, another man appeared. “Does God
exist?” he asked. “No, God does not exist,” Buddha answered. Late in the day, a third man asked
Buddha the same question, and Buddha's response was: “You must decide for yourself.” “Master, this is
absurd,” said one of the disciples. “How can you give three different answers to the same question?”
“Because they were different persons,” answered the Enlightened One. “And each person approaches
God in his own way: some with certainty, some with denial and some with doubt.”
We are all concerned with taking action, doing things, resolving problems, providing for others. We are
always trying to plan something, conclude something else, discover a third. There is nothing wrong with
that -after all, that is how we build and modify the world. But the act of Adoration is also a part of life.
To stop from time to time, to escape one's self, and to stand silent before the Universe. To kneel down,
body and soul. Without asking for something, without thinking, without even giving thanks for anything.
Just to experience the warmth of the love that surrounds us. At such moments, unexpected tears may
appear -tears neither of happiness nor sadness. Do not be surprised at that. It is a gift. The tears are
cleansing your soul.
The master says: “If you must cry, cry like a child. You were once a child, and one of the first things you
learned in life was to cry, because crying is a part of life. Never forget that you are free, and that to show
your emotions is not shameful. Scream, sob loudly, make as much noise as you like. Because that is how

children cry, and they know the fastest way to put their hearts at ease. “Have you ever noticed how
children stop crying? They stop because something distracts them. Something calls them to the next
adventure. Children stop crying very quickly. And that's how it will be for you. But only if you can cry as
children do.”
The wanderer is having lunch with a woman friend, an attorney inFort Lauderdale . A highly animated
drunk at the next table insists on talking to her throughout the meal. At one point, the friend asks the
drunk to quiet down. But he says: “Why? I'm talking about love in a way that a sober person never does.
I'm happy, I'm trying to communicate with strangers. What's wrong with that?” “This isn't the appropriate
time,” she said. “You mean there are only certain times that are appropriate for showing one's
happiness?” With that, the drunk is invited to share her table.
The master says: “We must care for our body. It is the temple of the Holy Spirit, and deserves our
respect and affection. We must make the best use of our time. We must fight for our dreams, and
concentrate our efforts to that end. But we must not forget that life is made up of small pleasures. They
were placed here to encourage us, assist us in our search, and provide moments of surcease from our
daily battles. It is not a sin to be happy. There is nothing wrong in -from time to time -breaking certain
rules regarding diet, sleep and happiness. Do not criticize yourself if -once in a while -you waste your
time on trifles. These are the small pleasures that stimulate us.”
The pianist Artur Rubinstein was late arriving for lunch at a first class restaurant inNew York . His
friends began to be concerned, but Rubinstein finally appeared, with a spectacular blonde, one-third his
age, at his side. Known to be something of a cheapskate, he surprised his friends by ordering the most
expensive entree, and the rarest, most sophisticated wine. When lunch was over, he paid the bill with a
smile. “I can see that you are all surprised,” Rubinstein said. “But today, I went to my lawyer's to prepare
my will. I left a goodly amount to my daughter and to my relatives, and made generous donations to
charities. But I suddenly realized that I wasn't included in the will; everything went to others. So, I
decided to treat myself with greater generosity.”
While the master was traveling to spread the word of God, the house in which he lived with his disciples
burned down. “He entrusted the house to us, and we didn't take proper care,” said one of the disciples.
They immediately began to rebuild on what remained after the fire, but the master returned earlier than
expected, and saw what they were doing. “So, things are looking up: a new house,” he said happily. One
of the disciples, embarrassed, told him what had actually happened; that where they had all lived together
had been consumed by fire. “I don't understand,” said the master. “What I am seeing is men who have
faith in life, beginning a new chapter. Those who have lost everything they owned are in a better position
than many others, because, from that moment on, things can only improve.”
The master says: “If you are traveling the road of your dreams, be committed to it. Do not leave an open
door to be used as an excuse such as, 'Well, this isn't exactly what I wanted. ' Therein are contained the
seeds of defeat. “Walk your path. Even if your steps have to be uncertain, even if you know that you
could be doing it better. If you accept your possibilities in the present, there is no doubt that you will
improve in the future. But if you deny that you have limitations, you will never be rid of them. “Confront
your path with courage, and don't be afraid of the criticism of others. And, above all, don't allow yourself
to become paralyzed by self-criticism. “God will be with you on your sleepless nights, and will dry your
tears with His love. God is for the valiant.”
The master and his disciples were traveling, and, on the road, were unable to eat properly. The master
asked some of them to go and seek food. The disciples returned at the end of the day. Each brought with
him the little he had been able to gain through the charity of others: fruit that was already going bad, stale
bread and bitter wine. One of the disciples, however, brought with him a bag of ripe apples. “I would do