YOU can give a fool a thousand intellects, but the only one he will want is yours,’ says an Arabic proverb.
When we start planting the garden of our life, we glance to one side and notice our neighbour is there, spying.
He himself is incapable of growing anything, but he likes to give advice on when to sow actions, when to fertilize thoughts, and when to water achievements.
If we listen to what this neighbour is saying, we will end up working for him, and the garden of our life will be our neighbour’s idea.
We will end up forgetting about the earth we cultivated with so much sweat and fertilized with so many blessings. We will forget that each centimeter of earth has its mysteries that only the patient hand of the gardener can decipher.
We will no longer pay attention to the sun, the rain, and the seasons; we will concentrate instead only on that head peering at us over the hedge.
The fool who loves giving advice on our garden never tends his own plants at all.
