Don't spend your strength fleeing every fear that rises during your rounds, as if a predator stood before you ready to devour you. Gurudev told of a man sitting by a forest river who suddenly saw a huge tiger and fainted from terror. But the tiger was only thirsty, not hungry: it came to the water, drank calmly, and went away without even noticing the fallen man. What frightens you in the middle of japa — fatigue, a sharp thought, a voice in your mind — most often comes only to drink and go, if you don't bolt before its time. Sit with your beads the way that man lay: still, until the beast leaves on its own.