Way Of The Peaceful Warrior by Dan Millman

Author:Dan Millman
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: sf_history
ISBN: 9781932073201
Publisher: HJ Kramer; Revised edition
Published: 2009-07-16T23:00:00+00:00

"That means your good habits must become so strong that they dissolve those which are not useful." Socrates pointed ahead to a small cafe on Shattuck near Ashby. I'd walked by there many times without really noticing it.

"So, you believe in natural foods, See?" I said as we crossed the street.

"It's not a matter of believing but of doing. I can tell you this: I eat only what is wholesome, and I eat only as much as I need. In order to appreciate what you call natural foods, you have to sharpen your instincts; you have to become a natural man." "Sounds positively ascetic to me. Don't ),ou even have a little ice cream now and then?" "My diet may at first seem spartan compared to the indulgences you call 'moderation', Dan, but the way I eat is actually filled with pleasure, because I've developed the capacity to enjoy the simplest foods. And so will you." We knocked on the door, and loseph opened it. "Come in, come in," he said enthusiastically, as if welcoming us to his home. It did, in fact, look like a home. Thick carpets covered the floor of the small waiting room. Heavy, polished, rough-hewn tables were placed around the room, and the soft straight-backed chairs looked like antiques. Tapestries hung on the walls, except for one wall almost completely hidden by a huge aquarium of oolofful fish. Morning light poured through a skylight overhead. We sat directly below it, in the warm rays of the sun, occasionally shaded by clouds drifting overhead.

Joseph approached us, carrying two plates over his head. With a flourish, he placed them in front of us, serving Socrates first, then me. "Ah, it looks delicious!" said Socrates, tucking his napkin into the neck of his shirt. I looked down. There before me, on a white plate, were a sliced carrot and a piece of lettuce. I stared at it in consternation.

At my expression, Socrates almost fell out of his chair laughing and Joseph had to lean against a table. "Ah," I said, with a sigh of relief. "It is a joke, then." Without another word, Joseph took the plates and returned with two beautiful wooden bowls. In each bowl was a perfectly carved, miniature replica of a mountain. The mountain itself was a blended combination of cantaloupe and honeydew melon. Small chunks of walnuts and almonds, individually carved, became brown boulders.

'The craggy cliffs were made from apples and thin slices of cheese.

The trees were made of many pieces of parsley, each pruned to a perfect shape, like bonsai trees. An icing of yogurt capped the peak. Around the base were halved grapes and a ring of fresh strawberries.

I sat and stared. "Joseph, it's too beautiful. I can't eat this; I want to take a picture of it." Socrates, I noticed, had already begun eating, nibbling slowly, as was his manner. I attacked the mountain with gusto and was almost done, when Socrates suddenly started gobbling his food. I realized he was mimicking me.

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