- FAQ
- Login
- Register
- Call Workpermit.com for a paid service +44 (0)344-991-9222
ESC
Welcome to immigrationboards.com!
Moderators: Casa, archigabe, CR001, push, JAJ, ca.funke, Amber, zimba, vinny, Obie, EUsmileWEallsmile, batleykhan, meself2, geriatrix, John, ChetanOjha, Administrator
Excellent advice!secret.simon wrote: ↑Sun Jan 10, 2021 4:15 pmOne can't go through life taking offence at every misstep of somebody else. Life is too short, and the only person who will end up upset and miserable is that person themselves. Let go and move on.
No worries
Letting go of ‘the controller’, staying more with this moment and being open to the uncertainty of our future, releases us from the prison of fear. It allows us to respond to life’s challenges with our own original wisdom, and gets us out safely from many a sticky situation.
I was standing in one of the six queues at the immigration barrier at Perth airport, returning from a wonderful trip to Sri Lanka via Singapore. The queues were moving slowly; they were obviously doing a thorough check. A customs officer emerged from a side door in the lobby, leading a small sniffer- dog trained to detect drugs. The incoming travellers smiled nervously as the customs officer led the sniffer dog up and down each line. Even though they were not carrying any drugs, you could detect a release of tension after the dog sniffed them and moved away to someone else.
When the cute little dog reached me and sniffed, it stopped. It buried its little muzzle in my robe at the waist and wagged its tail in rapid, wide arcs. The customs officer had to yank at the leash to pull the dog away. The passenger in line ahead of me, who had been quite friendly before, had now moved a step further away from me. And I was sure that the couple behind had moved a step backwards.
After five minutes, I was much closer to the counter, when they brought the sniffer dog around again. Up and down the lines the dog went, giving each traveller a little sniff and then moving on. When it came to me it stopped again. Its head went in my robe and its tail went crazy. Again, the customs officer had to forcefully pull the dog away. I felt all eyes on me now. Even though many people might become a little worried at this point, I was completely relaxed. If I went to jail, well, I had many friends there and they feed you much better than they do in a monastery!
When I reached the customs check, they gave me a thorough search. I had no drugs: monks don’t even take alcohol. They didn’t strip-search me; I think this was because I showed no fear. All they did was ask me why I thought the sniffer-dog had stopped only at me. I said that monks have great compassion for animals, and maybe that was what the dog sniffed; or maybe the dog was a monk in one of its past lives. They let me go through after that.