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The Path © 1998 by: Cirse Windom
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Conventionality ~ seeing |
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in the distance, seeker heard wanderers talking of a nearby place. a place of peace. a place of quite reflection. a place where all wanderers of all beliefs could gather and bask in the natural wonder of ‘the garden of conventional praise’.
seeker stood nearby and listened as they spoke of the garden’s wonders.
“it has been tended a long while, cultivated with patient and devoted hands.... the hands of seekers.”
“yes.... i have been and it is a place of true wonder! pure and lovely! a sacred place of quiet solitude....”
‘i must visit this place as soon as possible!’ thought seeker. and he directed his footsteps ~ slowly and deliberately, for he was still recovering from his wounds ~ toward the garden that was said to loom upon a hillside in the far distance.
cautiously, seeker traversed narrow passages. with perseverance.... crossed long, wide valleys. with tremendous focus, he thought only of his destination, unwilling to indulge even the smallest distraction. unwilling even to engage the many travelers who shared his objective.
carefully, seeker struggled with the stick he still carried up a high and rocky hillside, where breathless and tired, he rested.
presently, he heard elated voices echo from a near cliff, and seeker saw a crowd of admirers clinging to the ledge upon which the garden grew. seeker positioned the stick, pulling his self forward. ‘this must be a great wonder!’ he thought.
‘so many seek a view! this must be a great and worthy wonder!’
seeker endured enormous strain, but after much struggle and a fair climb, he was just able to see a small and brilliant patch of carefully tended flowers. ‘such a lovely sight!’ and seeker struggled forward a bit more, for a better view.
wedging his foot between two boulders and placing the stick upward, sideways, between two trees.... holding the stick, and with his other hand pulling him up to the ledge, seeker could almost see the entire garden.
“just a little more....” seeker grunted, “and i shall see all there is to see of this great.... and.... worthy.... wonder....”
as seeker moved his free foot to a ledge above one of the boulders, seeker felt his self slip and quickly looked down in order to stabilize his footing.
there, sprouting from a fracture in the rock, wedged beneath his weight and keeping him from slipping, grew a frail and tiny tree.
quickly seeker withdrew his foot.
seeker’s weight shifted, knocking him off balance. loosing his grip on the stick and twisting his ankle between the boulders, seeker fell in a heap across one of the rocks. as seeker freed his leg and reached to revive the crushed tree, the stick descended, clubbing seeker on the head, then, bouncing off the rock, splintered along most of it’s length landing far out of reach.
wracked throughout his body with great pain.... seeker lay momentarily quite still.... quite still enough....
that seeker truly saw.
erupting in subtle laughter, seeker winced in pain.
the more pain he felt, the more and louder he laughed.
facing the ledge, tears streaming from his eyes, seeker twitched upon the rock ~ laughing, crying, flailing in pain and hilarity.
other visitors to the garden clung to the ledge, clung to each other and observed seeker, afraid to come to his aid.
finally seeker righted his self and, rubbing clear his eyes while breathing a great sigh of relief, said to the tree, “you probably think i deserve this.”
seeker paused and reflected.
“i do.... of course.” and carefully, seeker lifted the tree’s thin trunk and adjusted its branches.
the wanderers who had been watching seeker looked at one another and edged farther away.
seeker sat observing the tree and the thin crack from which it sprouted.
he recalled the garden and gazed toward the ledge.
“you are so much stronger than i. so aware of your purpose. so patient. so persistent.”
elbows on his knees, seeker rested his head in his hands wringing out his last mirthful sigh.
he glanced absently at the fallen stick, then lifted his eyes to the bent tree.
“so truly beautiful.”
seeker looked at the wanderers clamoring and jostling for a better view of the garden. just as he had. seeker saw their feet trample tiny trees, flowers, moss and beetles. just as he had. he saw them disregard the beauty about them for some glorified version of conventional praise. just as he had.
and almost like him, seeker saw they were content to believe that the garden upon which they gazed.... was all that there was to see.
seeker breathed deeply, inhaling the beauty around him. etched within his memory.... the fragrance of the air, the feel of the boulder which held him, the subtle hues of green upon the foliage of the tree. the sounds of beauty, struggling, surviving, accepting.... all around him.
each sense, seeker employed to remember forever this moment.
recalling teacher’s perceptions of physical restriction and dependency, seeker gazed upon the little tree and saw that it once had been a seed that lay in the shadow of the boulder. once.... the boulder had protected it from wind and predators ~ lodged it and kept it from floating to some other place upon currents brought by rain.
then, as the seed took root and began to grow, the boulder kept it from its growth ~ and.... the tree sought to transcend the confinement ~ sought to transcend the reality pressed upon it by the boulder.
seeker saw that the boulder’s truth could be very different from the truth of the tree ~ and that, eventually, the tree could come to greatly press its truth upon the constitution of the boulder.
he saw that the two must contend for their place, their evolution, their peace ~ must employ their means and manifest their destiny.
and in that there was peace. harmony. perpetuation.
‘why then, war?’ seeker wondered. ‘for what purpose?’
‘was my experience with the disciples and egocentric’s band any different than the war between boulder and seed ~ rock and tree?’
the idea of peace beleaguered seeker and remained for a long while a great and disturbing mystery.
seeker rose from the rock and realized his unexamined desire had caused him to injure the tree as well as re-injure his self.
slowly, seeker descended from the rock, gathered the stick, and, with a splintered version of them both, walked onward.... remembering his encounter.... thoughtful of teacher’s perceptions of consequence.
seeker had learned to maintain faith in the interrelated purpose and reason for all beings and their events. maintaining his faith in the perpetually shifting balance of existence, seeker came to perceive that upon exercising his every ability to influence fate, he must occasionally relinquish his perceived control over destiny to a greater cause, a greater need beyond his conception.
for this, seeker was always prepared; for, seeker recognized his self as a frequent participant and donor in lessons affecting, benefiting others as equally well or indirectly more than his self.
in that ~ seeker was willing to give of his self; and as such, he too, benefited.
with
as much awareness, honesty and acceptance as he was able to command,
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Writing - Home The
Gift of Everlasting Cheer | Tide Pool
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