
In a bustling riverside town, there lived a ferryman named Callen. His work was simple—he rowed people across the wide river that split the valley in two. Each day, travellers, merchants, and villagers would clamber into his wooden boat, eager to cross.
But Callen carried a secret. The river’s current mirrored his own heart—swift, unpredictable, and sometimes dangerous. He had a temper that rose as quickly as the spring floodwaters. If a passenger complained, delayed payment, or questioned his skill, sharp words leapt from his mouth before he could stop them. Many avoided his ferry, choosing instead to walk miles upriver to another crossing.
One autumn evening, a storm rolled in as Callen prepared his last trip. A cloaked woman approached, carrying nothing but a small lantern. “Will you take me across?” she asked.
They set out. The rain fell harder, and the current pushed against them. Halfway across, the woman spoke over the wind: “Your river is wild, but you row with strength. Do you ever let it rest?”
Callen frowned. “Rest? It never rests. And if I don’t fight it, we’ll be swept away.”
She smiled gently. “Not every moment needs fighting. Sometimes the safest thing is to hold steady and let the current pass.”
When they reached the far shore, she handed him the lantern. “This is for you. But don’t light it yet. Wait for a moment when you feel the river inside you rising too fast.”
Days later, a merchant boarded his ferry. Before they even pushed off, the man began to criticise the boat’s condition. Callen felt the heat surge in his chest. His jaw tightened, his hands gripped the oars. Then he remembered the lantern. Slowly, he set down the oars, took out the lantern, and simply held it.
He did nothing. He said nothing. He breathed.
The merchant fell silent, unsettled by the pause. In that stillness, Callen noticed the wind easing, the current smoothing. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm. “We’ll cross safely if we work with the water, not against it.”
From that day forward, Callen used the lantern whenever his inner river threatened to overflow. He found that in those moments of pause, the right words came—not from his pride, but from his truth. The passengers noticed. Word spread. More people chose his ferry, not for speed, but for the sense of peace they felt when they crossed.
Years later, a young apprentice asked Callen the secret to his skill. Callen handed him the lantern and said:
“Every person carries a river inside them. The ego wants to row hard and fast, to win every crossing. But if you learn to pause—to let the water settle—you’ll find the bridge that’s always been there. And that bridge will carry you farther than force ever could.”
The apprentice never forgot. And in time, the townsfolk began calling Callen’s ferry The Bridge of Quiet—a place where people didn’t just cross the river, but crossed from reaction into wisdom.
audio version:
“The Open Heart: Observing with Awareness, Living in the Flow of Giving and Receiving”
The thread running through this service is that awareness, balance, and openness of heart allow our true nature to shine—connecting us more deeply to ourselves, to each other, and to Spirit.
From the Inspiration Guidance talk, we are reminded that emotions are sacred messengers, moving through the chakras and influencing every part of our being. When we observe our feelings without letting the ego take control, we create the sacred space between stimulus and response—a space where wisdom can guide our actions. This awareness transforms emotion from a reaction into a tool for healing, realignment, and authentic expression.
The Meditation on Calm and Clarity deepens this teaching by guiding us into the role of the observer. In stillness, we notice our thoughts and feelings without judgement. We experience ourselves as grounded, balanced, and filled with light, able to respond from love instead of fear. This state of awareness strengthens the link between the body, the soul, and the Divine.
The Story of “The Empty Hand, The Open Heart” illustrates the practical flow of this awareness in daily life—how giving and receiving are not opposites, but two movements in the same sacred rhythm. An open heart allows generosity without expectation, and humility in receiving without resistance. Both acts require trust, vulnerability, and the willingness to be part of the shared fabric of life.
Finally, the Sunbeams reflection offers the spiritual anchor for all of this: the reminder that love is eternal, and that the presence of our loved ones—whether in this world or beyond—continues to surround and guide us. Just as sunlight can slip through the smallest window, love finds its way into our hearts when they remain open. In every shaft of light, in every quiet act of kindness, in every moment we pause before reacting, the Divine connection is renewed.
Core Truth:
🜂 When we observe with awareness, soften the ego, and live with an open heart, we align ourselves with the natural flow of life—where giving and receiving are sacred, emotions are teachers, and love is an eternal light that guides us through all seasons.
