There was once a hermitage on a mountainside where three small streams ran
down from the high snows and met in a single shining pool. The young
students who lived there washed their clay pots in that pool, and the water
was always clear, no matter how much mud they brought to it.
One day a new student asked the old teacher, "Master, why is this pool
never dirty? We rinse our dusty bowls in it every morning, yet it stays
bright."
The teacher led him up the slope and showed him the three streams pouring
in. "Three streams feed this pool," he said, "and they never stop. As fast
as you bring mud, fresh water carries it away. The pool stays clean
because it is always being washed."
He sat the boy on a warm rock. "The heart is like that pool," he said. "It
gathers dust just by living — small selfishness, little angers, a hundred
tiny stains. Some foolish people say, 'Then I will stop doing anything at
all, so my heart gathers no dust.' But that is like covering the pool with
a stone. The water below only grows stale and dark."
"What should we do instead?" asked the boy.
"Keep the three streams flowing," said the teacher, and he counted them on
his fingers. "The first stream is yajña — sacrifice, the joyful offering of
what is dear to you, the sacred fire the whole village gathers around. The
second is dāna — giving, opening your hand to those who have less. The
third is tapas — self-discipline, the quiet inner heat that burns away
laziness and greed. Let these three pour through your life every single
day, and your heart, like this pool, will stay clear no matter what mud the
world throws in."
On the distant battlefield, Krishna told Arjuna the very same truth. "These
three, sacrifice, giving, and discipline, must never be given up. They are
not flaws to escape. They are the very streams that make even the wise grow
purer. Do not cover the pool with a stone, Arjuna. Keep the clean water
flowing."
And the boy on the mountain, dipping his bowl once more into the bright pool,
finally understood why it never grew dark.