In The Beginning

The boy ran up onto his grandfather’s porch. His face was lit with excitement and his eyes were shining. “Hello, Grandfather. How are you this fine evening?”

The grandfather had been watching the boy as he approached, skipping down the street. “I am well, young one. What has you so enthused this evening?”

“Why, I’m here to learn more about who I am. Remember last time, I told you that now that I know I am the answer to the question, ‘Who am I?’, I want to know more about myself.”

“I do remember that” the grandfather smiled. “And, are you now expecting me to tell you all about yourself?”

“Well… yes” the boy replied sitting on the porch near his grandfather’s rocking chair.

“And, do you think that I know you better than you know yourself?” The grandfather was raising one eyebrow.

“Uh-oh,” the boy thought to himself. This usually meant the boy was in for another lesson, but not many answers. “Well,” the boy decided to alter his approach. “Last time we were talking, I remember that, with your help, I figured out that the two wolves came from me, but I never really understood where I came from.”

“Ah ha,” the grandfather was ready and waiting for this. “So you want to know where you came from, and you want me to tell you? Is that about right?”

“Well, yes. I guess so.” The boy wasn’t sure where to go from here.

“And, you are worried that I will tell you to figure it out for yourself. Am I right?”

“Ah, yes.” The boy was starting to hope he might be off the hook, and that his grandfather would tell him some stories that would help him understand. And, he was not disappointed.

“Ok. Let’s begin at the beginning.” His grandfather checked his pipe, took a couple of long pulls, letting the smoke out slowly so it floated in a small grey cloud around his head. Then, he paused, looking out at the evening sky before he began.

“I told you that the story of the two wolves has been handed down from the Cherokee elders for many generations. Well, in similar fashion, peoples from every time and place in the world have passed down stories about the creation and all the creatures in it to their next generation. The story, well stories really, that I’m going to tell you now are very old, older than the Cherokee people and their stories. These stories come from India and have been told and re-told in songs and poetry by Indian sages since people started to settle the southern Indian continent thousands of years ago. This is what they tell about the eternal being and the creation, and man’s place in the universe.”

“Did they know about the two wolves, Grandfather?”

“They did, but they talked about them a little differently. And I, from my own experience, talk about them in my own way. You must listen, consider the stories, and use them to guide your investigation into your self.”

“Ok.”

“Good.” The grandfather went on, “these sages saw the eternal being as having three different forms. They called them ‘Brahma,’ ‘Vishnu,’ and ‘Shiva.’

Brahma is the creator, Vishnu is the sustainer of all that is created, and Shiva is the destroyer. Brahma transforms the infinite into form, which is what we call the creation, or the world. Vishnu protects the forms which have been created from dissolving back into their primordial essence, which has no form. Vishnu, himself, takes human form and enters the world to guide us through his creation. The world exists inside of time, and time wears away at the world until it comes to meet Shiva, who awakens full of joy, and dances in ecstasy until what has been created dissolves back into the infinite, formless essence from which it came. It is Vishnu, in one of these forms, that always exists. He has no beginning and no end. He lives outside and inside of creation, and everything is contained within him. He simply is.”

“Grandfather?” the boy could not help interrupting. “What does infinite mean?”

“It means that which is outside the bounds of space and time, and thus cannot be known by the Bad Wolf, which is bound by time.”

“What about the Good Wolf? Is he, too, bound by time?”

“No, young one. The Good Wolf belongs to that part of us that holds the essence of the infinite. That essence has no beginning, no end, and cannot be created, nor destroyed. It simply is. Sometimes, it takes form, and sometimes it simply exists within itself. It is what gives us life. It is the am in I am.”

“Wow.” The boy was full of wonder.

“Are you ready for a story now?” asked the grandfather after some minutes of silence.

“Yes, please.”

In the Beginning

“There once lived a sage named Markandeya. He, like you, was interested in finding out more about himself, and spent his time going from place to place, enjoying the beauty of the world and the people in it.

“Do you remember that I said Vishnu sustains everything created? Well, in this story, Vishnu was dreaming about the world Brahma had brought into form. The entire creation existed within Vishnu’s dream. There was nothing outside his dream. Outside the dream was all the uncreated essence without form.

“So, here is Markandeya wandering around the only world he knows, completely unaware that he is a character in Vishnu’s dream, when suddenly, Vishnu’s mouth falls open in his sleep, and Markandeya sails into the nothingness on Vishnu’s outgoing breath. Markandeya is terrified. He can see nothing, hear nothing, smell nothing, taste nothing, and feel nothing. He is completely alone. He cries out but cannot hear his own cry. There is nothing to carry his cries to his own ears. He is suspended in the void. There is no time where he is.

“Finally, Vishnu breaths in again, and Markandeya is sucked back into the world he knows. He is sitting in a field and everything is as normal as it ever was for him. Once his heart has slowed down and he has leaned over and smelled the grass, and felt the solid earth beneath him, he gets shakily to his feet and goes on his way. Time passes, for he is back inside creation where time exists. After a while Markandeya forgets what happened to him, and goes on with his life as it was.

“After quite a while, Markandeya has traveled to another part of the country. When he is sitting under a tree on a small hill beside the road, Vishnu once again lets his mouth fall open in his sleep, and Markandeya is carried into the void on Vishnu’s out going breath. As before, Markandeya is terrified. Alone. Unable to feel, or see, or hear, or taste, or smell. He is completely lost. There is no time. He is no where.

“As before, Vishnu once again inhales in is sleep, and Markandeya is sucked back into the dream of the world he knows. Markandeya cannot comprehend what is happening to him. Where does he go? How long is he there? Can he make it stop happening?

“But, again, after some time, Markandeya begins to forget what happened to him. Not altogether, but his fears dwindle as the time passes.”

“It happens again, doesn’t it?” The boy couldn’t help himself.

“It does,” replied his grandfather. “But, this time something new happens. When Markandeya rides Vishnu’s out going breath, he sees there is a cosmic child, floating in the void, asleep on the leaf of a banyan tree. The child awakens and addresses Markandeya, telling him that he, the child, is Vishnu in this form. The cosmic child then compliments Markandeya on his devotion to acquiring knowledge as he wandered around the world. And, then he reveals to Markandeya the secrets of how Vishnu forms the creation out of himself, cares for his creation and everything in it, and then absorbs that creation back into himself. In the beginning of each new age Vishnu, in this form of the sleeping child, awakens and takes the form of Brahma to create the world and all that exists therein, anew. The cosmic child continued, telling Markandeya that once the creation is complete, the cosmic child takes form as Vishnu, and enters the world himself as a human being to help us understand and protect it. Likewise, at the end of each age, Vishnu manifests in the form of Shiva to dissolve the creation back into the primordial sea from which it was created. Then Vishnu returns to sleep as the cosmic child.”

The grandfather rocked back in his chair and refilled, tamped, and relit his pipe. After he had smoked for a few minutes, he looked at the boy, who was sitting quietly by his chair thinking about the story he had just heard.

“Grandfather?” the boy started out slowly, “does this mean that we are living in someone else’s dream world?”

“Well,” the grandfather replied. “Yes and no.”

“What do you mean, Grandfather?”

“You know how Markandeya traveled between the dream world and primordial sea, where he met Vishnu? What does that tell you about Markandeya?”

The boy looked out at the sunset for a few minutes, pondering the question. Then he said, “If Markandeya existed in both Vishnu’s dream, and he could float around in the formless void and talk to Vishnu as the cosmic child, it must mean there is part of him that exists before and after each creation, and that he can live inside each creation as well.” He paused, then looked at his grandfather. “Does that make sense, Grandfather?”

“Yes, young one. It makes a great deal of sense. Markandeya was experiencing both the I and the am of himself. In this world he was inside of time and space and was experiencing the I, and in the formless essence he was outside of time and space where there is no I, and he was the am.

Do you remember that we started out talking about the two wolves? Well, when the world is created at the beginning of each new age, human beings are each created with both the Good Wolf and the Bad Wolf inside of them. The two wolves are the same size and strength. The creator builds his creation out of love. This is the heart of Vishnu, and he builds each being around this core of his love. The Good Wolf and his qualities live in this core. This is the heart within each of us. Each of us is also given consciousness.”

“Consciousness? What exactly is consciousness, Grandfather?”

“Consciousness is the ability to be aware of our own existence and perceive everything around us. It is also through consciousness that we can experience the love from which we are created. It is this consciousness that enables us to recognize both the Good Wolf and the Bad Wolf. Our consciousness allows us to know and understand the world and ourselves. We can choose which of the wolves we wish to allow to guide us though our lives.

“We are given our five senses with which to see, and hear, and smell, and taste, and touch the world. And, we are given our minds to organize our experiences into thoughts by which we can understand those experiences. The five senses we use to interact with the world exist so we can live in this creation, but belong to us only while we are in this world. They are temporary. The Bad Wolf prefers these senses and uses them to store our experiences in his own way. It’s like he is recording our life as it is happening and storing it for later. Then, later he considers what has expired and uses these memories to construct meaning and plan for the future. While he is busy thinking about the past and using the memories to imagine what he will do in the future, he is not really paying attention to the present. But, he is not concerned because he is recording it.

“These five senses through which we experience the world outside of us are a manifestation of five similar senses that belong to Vishnu’s world, both the dreaming and the sleeping part. The Good Wolf likes these senses because they put us in touch with the heart within us and give us a fuller understanding of our life. It is the heart that connects us to the infinite that exists outside of creation and time. It is the door through which Vishnu passes in and out of form on his breath. It is this door that Vishnu showed Markandeya. Vishnu also showed Markandeya how to use his breath to go back and forth with Vishnu as he makes and unmakes the world. It is the breath that is our connection to Vishnu. Everything exists in Vishnu. Even time lives inside of him. In Vishnu there is no past and no future, just now. This is how the Good Wolf understands the world and connects the answers with the questions. The breath is the thread that binds everything together.”

“How do we choose the Good Wolf? How do we get to know how to use his five senses to go inside and find the door?” the boy wanted to know.

“Remember that I told you the Good Wolf lives in the heart, and you get to understand him through love. The Bad Wolf always seeks explanations for everything using the outward senses. Because of this he can only find answers that are temporary. These do not satisfy him. He can find no answers in him so he borrows ones from others, or makes them up.”

“I thought you said each question gets created at the same time as the matching answer.” The boy thought he saw an inconsistency.

“That is true.” His grandfather said. “Both the answers and the questions are created as part of us. The Good Wolf has the answers that the Bad Wolf wants. But, the way the Bad Wolf chooses to experience life robs him of the ability to find them. The Bad Wolf cannot understand where the Good Wolf lives. The Good Wolf is like Markandeya, he can go anywhere he wants. He exists in both the world and the primordial sea out of which the world arises. And, when you make the Good Wolf your friend, he can take you with him wherever he goes.”

“Wow,” the boy was in awe.

“Yes.” The grandfather agreed.

***

Who Am I?

One evening the boy made his regular visit to see his grandfather. He sat quietly on the porch near his grandfather’s rocking chair, and for once, the boy was not eager to ask a question.

The grandfather rocked silently smoking his pipe for several minutes, waiting.

Finally, his grandson looked directly at him and thoughtfully asked, “Grandfather, you told me that we each have the Good Wolf and the Bad Wolf inside us. But, where did they come from? Were they always there, or did they come into us sometime when we were unaware?” He paused, but was not finished, for he had been thinking and discussing the two wolves with his companions ever since hearing about them. “I did not even know about them until you told me. I did not even realize I had voices going on in my head all the time. Then, once you told me about the two wolves, all of a sudden, my head was full of voices. Were they always there, or did you put them there?”

The grandfather stopped rocking and watched him closely while he talked. The boy finished, and then the grandfather rocked back and forth and smoked his pipe while he considered the question and how he wanted to answer it.

In due time, the grandfather answered, “These are very good questions which you pose. Now, you remember what I told you about questions.” This was not a question.

“Do you remember that I told you that the questions you have, come from inside of you, and the answers must come from inside of you as well? They are your questions. You own them. And, in order for you to own the answers to your questions, you cannot borrow someone else’s answer, for that answer belongs only to them.”

“Yes. But, if we don’t know where the answers are inside of us, how are we to find them?” the boy replied.

“Well, let me give you a hint,” the grandfather went on. “You listen.”

Then, he sat back in his rocker, smiled, and waited.

“But, what am I to listen for?” The boy was frustrated.

“You listen for the answer” the grandfather said.

“You see, we think that the question sends us in search of the answer. But, this is not the case. It is the answer that energizes us to seek it, and this gives rise to the question. There cannot be a question without an answer. They are created together, but the answer must come first."

Then he continued. Let me me give you an example, "It is like an itch. The itch seems to come first, and it gives rise to the urge to scratch. Then you answer the urge to scratch with your action, and the itch goes away. But, if no ‘scratch’ existed, the existence of an itch would be meaningless. And, nothing exists without a purpose. Similarly, we think thirst comes first, and then water is the answer that satisfies thirst. But, if water did not exist first, why would thirst come into being? There would be no need for thirst without the existence of water. Our bodies need water to survive, and it is this need that causes thirst to arise. It is the same for every need we have. When we are created, we are created with needs that must be fulfilled in order to live full and happy lives. And, whatever is necessary to satisfy those needs must already exist."

The grandfather paused for a few minutes while the boy thought about what his grandfather was saying.

“Do you now see that if the answer did not already exist, the question could be resolved with any answer at all?” the grandfather continued.  “This is why I tell you that you own the answer and you own the question. They are yours and yours alone. They are created together and cannot be separated. When you borrow an answer, it does not truly match your question, so it will not satisfy you.”

“But, what if there is no answer to your question?” the boy asked.

“If that were the case,” the grandfather replied. “What caused the question to arise?”

The boy was looking more confused.

“Maybe I should go back to the question of the two wolves, and talk to you about them for a while.”

“That would be great!” the boy said with enthusiasm, hoping that would make more sense to him.

Who Am I

“Let’s start at the beginning. Where do you think you came from?” the grandfather asked the boy.

“Uhh…” the boy was caught off guard. “I thought you were going to tell me about the two wolves. These, at least, I was beginning to understand a little bit.”

“Good. Tell me about where you think they came from.”

The boy thought about that for a while, then started to work it out. “Well, I guess they came from me.”

“Ok. But, where did you come from?”

“I don’t know” the boy answered.

“Let’s try this” the grandfather altered course a bit. “Let’s say you are the answer to a question. What do think the question is to which you are the answer?”

The boy sat up straighter and smiled. He knew the answer. “Who am I?”

And that made the grandfather laugh. “Good.”

“And, that means that the question is, ‘Who am I?’ and the answer is, ‘I am’!” The boy was excited. Then, after a pause, the boy went on “But, now, I guess, I want to know more about me.”

“And we’re off…” the grandfather chuckled, and slapped his knee.

***

Watch Your Step

“Grandfather!” the boy was out of breath as he ran up to his grandfather’s porch. “Would you tell me another story about the two wolves?”

“Sure,” replied the grandfather. “But why are you running?”

“Well…,” the boy said, pausing to catch his breath. “Ever since you told me the story about the two wolves, I have not been able to stop thinking. I never noticed it before. But, now it seems like all I do is think. I think and think and think. About everything. The voices in my head are always going.

“They are constantly going back and forth arguing in my head about the best thing for me to do. The Bad Wolf is always giving me advice and telling me things that get me into trouble. And, the Good Wolf is there, too. But, he is quieter, and I need to listen hard to hear him behind the chattering of the Bad Wolf. But, they sound a lot alike. How can I tell the difference?”

 “Now that’s the real question in this life, isn’t it?” replied the grandfather. “It is very hard to tell what to do sometimes. Both wolves have very good reasons for what you should choose to do. Have you noticed that the voices go back and forth, first saying, ‘Now you should do this,’ and then right away, ‘But if I do that, then this might happen’?”

“Yes! But they both sound like they belong to me! Sometimes something happens to me during the day and I can’t even go to sleep at night because they are arguing so loud about what I should do about it.”

“Let me ask you this,” the grandfather said. “What happened to you yesterday that kept you from sleeping last night?”.

“Oh.” The question stopped the boy. He had to think about it. “Well, our teacher asked us to write a paper about what we want to do when we grow up. And, I have so many ideas in my head, it’s driving me crazy!”

The boy was frustrated. “Sometimes, I want to just come and ask you what I should do. I trust you.”

“That’s good. And, I trust you, too. But, why do you trust me to tell you the right thing to do more than you trust yourself?”

The boy was expecting the grandfather to give him a way to know what to do. “Well, you are older and wiser than me.” Now, he sounded a little unsure of himself.

“I am older than you, that is true. But, I can’t give you my wisdom. To simply accept my advice does not help you. It is only my answer to your question, not yours. It is just another voice in your head.”

The boy realized that what his grandfather was saying was true. He was asking his grandfather to solve his problem for him. He leaned a little toward his grandfather and nodded.

 “Let me tell you something about the Bad Wolf and the Good Wolf. Have you ever heard the wolves howling at the moon?”

“Sure” the boy replied for they lived in highlands at the foot of mountains that were covered with woods and streams and rocks to climb.

“Well, if you ever go up to Lookout Rock when the moon is up, you might see the two wolves sitting there looking out over the valley at the moon. You may notice that one of the wolves is howling at the moon, while the other one is simply gazing quietly at it. The Bad Wolf is doing the baying because he sees the bright light of the moon, but it gives him no warmth. He thinks it’s light should warm him as the sun’s light does during the day, so he is calling out to the moon, begging it for some warmth.

“Now, the Good Wolf knows that the light of the moon is merely a reflection of the light from the sun, which cannot be seen at night. He does not expect the moon to give him any warmth so he is not disappointed. He is not asking for anything from the moon. He is grateful to the moon for the beauty of its reflection. He knows it is only visible to him because the sun is shining on it from the other side of the earth. He appreciates the moon’s beauty as a gift that reminds him that sun is still there even in the dark, and will return again in the morning to give him warmth.”

The grandfather fell silent for a few minutes, then began again. “You asked how you can tell which wolf is talking to you. The only way to tell is to notice that the Bad Wolf does all the talking. He is willing to take all sides in any argument. And, he will chatter away, about what you did or what was done to you, and what you will do or what will be done to you, for as long as you will listen. That is why the voices in your head sound the same. The Good Wolf simply waits quietly. He is not concerned with the past or the future. The past is gone and will not return no matter how much we think about it. And, the future is only a fantasy we cobble together out of our past memories and desires we have created for ourselves.  The only way to hear what Good Wolf is saying is to sit beside him and listen to his breathing. The breath we are taking in at this moment is the only one in which we are alive.  We cannot retrieve a breath once it has gone out from us. Nor, can we command a breath to come into us that has not yet been given. When you have listened to the breathing for a while, you will realize that this breathing is your own, and the voice of the Bad Wolf starts to fade away. Then you can begin to sense what the Good Wolf is telling you.”

Once again, the grandfather was quiet for a few minutes. Then he started again. “This is not to say that you are relieved of the responsibility of doing your homework. You must take action in this world. But, if you act from the feelings in your heart, you will take right action, for it is the heart that connects you to the present. And, it is in the heart that the Good Wolf resides. If you understand this, you will be able to recognize your feelings about the things you like to do in the present, and this will help you stop fantasizing about what you might like to do in the future. In this way you will be able to approach your homework with more clarity.”

Now, I will tell you another story.”

***

Watch Your Step

“Once there was a beggar man. He was very poor and during the day he would wait around the market place for one of the merchants to give him a little job to do in exchange for some food. At night, he would sleep in the straw under one of the merchant’s tables. It was usually dry and the cloth the merchants put over their tables in the evening hung down and gave him a little protection from the night chill.

“There was a land owner that came every day to the market to get a pot of yogurt from the dairy farmer. The beggar would help the farmer fill the customer’s bowls and jugs with yogurt, milk and cream. In return the farmer gave the beggar some food and allowed him to sleep in the straw under his stand at night.

“Well, one day, the landowner asked the beggar to help him carry his bowl of yogurt back to his house. He offered to pay him a few coins to do this. The beggar was only too glad for the job, and so they started off together. The landowner carrying some bags of vegetables and the beggar carrying the pot of yogurt on his head. When they reached the landowner’s house, he gave the beggar the coins, and both were pleased.

“The beggar returned to the market place, and with the coins was able to purchase a loaf of bread that the baker had not sold. Now he had something to go with the bowl of yogurt the farmer gave him for helping at his stand. It had been a very good day for the beggar and he was able to sleep a little easier that night with some extra food in his stomach.

“The next day, the landowner returned for more vegetables and yogurt, and once again asked the beggar for help carrying the pot of yogurt to his home. This arrangement continued and became a regular job for the beggar, who was soon able to save some coins each day after he had bought his food.

“It was not long before the beggar started to think about the money he was saving. He thought how he could save enough money to buy a goat. He could tie it up in a vacant field just outside the market place and let it eat it’s fill of grass and weeds. He saw how much the farmer was making at his stand selling his dairy products. He was sure the farmer would give him a good price on a nanny.

“The beggar used his time carrying the landowner’s pot of yogurt every day to plan his new life. The nanny would give good milk and the beggar could sell it to the farmer to add to his table in the market. That would work. And, soon he would be able to save enough from the proceeds from the goat’s milk to buy a billy goat to mate with the nanny. Then, they would have kids and he would need to rent some land from the farmer to keep his goats.

“After some time, the beggar would be able to buy a cow from the farmer, who had always showed him great kindness and who he knew he could count on for support as he started his new life. The cow would share the field with the goats and the beggar could rent part of the farmer’s stand to sell his products. In this way he would, in a few years, be able to purchase some land of his own from the farmer and eventually build a house. Then, he would be able to afford a wife. It would not be long before they had children, and together they could work their little farm. Maybe the farmer would sell him his farm when he got too old to work it for himself and the beggar would let him live there for free because the farmer had been so good to him along the way. The beggar would play with his children and help his beautiful wife, for he knew she would be beautiful, baking the bread in the kitchen. They would sell the extra bread along with their milk and yogurt and butter at their stand in the market place.

“In his revery, the beggar was by now playing in his big yard on his farm with his children. He could hear them laughing and see his wife sitting on the porch watching them cavort. Then suddenly, he tripped over a rock in the field.

“The beggar was very surprised to hear the crash that sounded like a large yogurt pot breaking when he fell.

“’What are you doing? You crazy beggar!’ the landowner cried. ‘Now look, what you’ve done. Not only is my yogurt spoiled, but you broke my best pot, too!’

“The beggar was dazed and confused by the fall. He shook his head and yelled back at the landowner. ‘What are you so upset about? You just lost a pot and some yogurt. My whole life is shattered. I’ve lost my wife and children, my farm, my cattle and goats and chickens…’.

I forgot to mention the chickens in his dream” the grandfather said with a wry smile.

***

The Two Wolves

One day a boy went to his grandfather and asked, “Grandfather, would you tell me about the two wolves? I have heard people talk about them, but I do not understand.”

The grandfather invited the boy to sit with him. “The story of the two wolves has been handed down by word of mouth from the Cherokee tribal elders for many generations. I will tell you stories about these two wolves so you can understand that they both exist inside of you.”

“Inside of me?” the boy said, surprised.

“Yes,” replied the grandfather. “They both reside in each human being. They are in constant battle with each other for control of the life of the being in which they reside. One is the Bad Wolf and the other is the Good Wolf.

The Bad Wolf is full of fear, sadness, pride, hate, envy, greed, and vengeance. And, out of those tendencies, this wolf is full of falsehood. The Good Wolf is full of faith, joy, love, peace, empathy, compassion, hope, and forgiveness. And, out of these qualities, this wolf is full of truth.

“Is the Bad Wolf inside of you, too, Grandfather?” asked the boy, for he had always known his grandfather to be thoughtful, generous, loving, and wise.

“Oh, yes! The Bad Wolf lives inside of me, too.” The grandfather smiled. “And, he never misses a chance to whisper in my ear all his ideas and suggestions for what I should do.”

“But, what about the Good Wolf?” the boy asked.

“Oh, he is there, too. Only, his voice is not always so loud. But, it is there if we take the time and care to listen. The Bad Wolf tends to be loud and very insistent. The Good Wolf is quieter, more patient and steady. He is constant and always there with encouragement to act from those qualities which he embodies.”

“Grandfather, if the Good Wolf and Bad Wolf are always fighting, whispering in my ears, which one will win this great battle you speak of?”

“The Cherokee say 'It depends on which one you feed'” his grandfather answered. It means you get to choose which one you listen to most."

I will tell you a story about the essence of the two wolves so that you may better understand the true nature of each. This is a story about Darkness and Light.”

"But what about the wolves?” the boy piped up.

His grandfather laughed. “Be patient little one,” he said. In this story, the Bad Wolf wears the cloak of darkness, and the Good Wolf wears the cloak of light.”

“Oh,” the boy replied, slightly embarrassed.

“Don’t worry,” the grandfather said gently. “You are right to express your surprise and curiosity. It is the way to understanding.” 

The boy slowly nodded his head, taking in what his grandfather was saying.

“Are you now ready to hear the story of Darkness and Light?” his grandfather asked. His eyes were shining.

“Yes.”

***

Darkness and Light

“There was a time when Darkness went to the judge and made a complaint against Light. ‘Your Honor,’ said Darkness. ‘I would like you stop Light from bothering me everywhere I go.’

‘Tell me more about how Light is bothering you, Darkness’ the judge replied.

‘Well,’ Darkness continued. ‘Whenever I find a place I like, I start to get comfortable. And, then along comes Light and chases me away. It happens every time.’

The judge listened attentively. Then said ’I can understand your frustration. But, before I can make a judgment against Light, I must hear his side of the story.’

So, the judge called Light to come before him. He told Light what Darkness had told him and asked Light ‘what do you have to say about this complaint?’

Light replied, ‘Your Honor, I am very sorry to hear that I am causing a problem for Darkness, but I have never met him.’

‘Well he is right here, you can meet him now.’

But, when they turned to Darkness, he was no longer there.

This is because Light has an essence. It exists on its own. Darkness, however, has no essence of its own. It is a name for the absence of Light” the grandfather finished the story.

“Do you understand?” he asked his grandson.

“Sort of” the boy replied. “But, does this mean that the Bad Wolf does not really exist?”

The grandfather smiled and rocked back in his chair. “That’s exactly what it means! The Bad Wolf has no power of its own. The only power it has is that which we give it when we listen to its lies. When we stop concentrating on the voice of the Good Wolf, the Bad Wolf starts to whisper to us.”

“Mmm” the boy nodded.

“I think that is enough for tonight, young one.” His grandfather stood up and stretched, and the boy followed, beginning to yawn.

“Come back tomorrow, and I will tell you another story to help you better understand how we feed each of these wolves.”

***

Appointment In Samaria

There is this story about a landowner, his servant and Death. This story has appeared in many traditions in one version or another over the years. This is the way I remember it.

***

Once there was a landowner who sent his servant into the marketplace to buy some groceries. When the servant left for the marketplace, the landowner went down to his stables to clean out some stalls and tend to his horses.

The landowner was in one of the stalls when the servant came running into the barn and started to saddle the landowner’s best horse. The landowner could see that the servant was very upset and came out of the stall to find out what had happened.

“Why are you so upset?” the landowner asked the servant.

The servant stopped saddling the horse for a moment and turned to the landowner. “I am sorry I didn’t bring back the things you sent me into the marketplace to get,” he said. “But, while I was shopping, I met Death, and he gave me such a look that I was chilled to the bones.”

The servant was shaking as he told his story. “I think he was looking for me in the marketplace, and I ran away. I just wanted to get away from him as fast as I could. That’s why I came back for your fastest horse.”

The landowner could see how afraid the servant was and felt a great compassion for his faithful servant. “Where will you go?” he asked.

“I have a cousin across the desert in Samaria. I will go there,” replied the servant.

“You are welcome to my horse. Take him, and God speed,” said the landowner. With that the servant finished saddling the horse and was off across the desert without delay

Once the servant was gone, the landowner went into the marketplace to get the supplies his servant had abandoned in his fear. There he met Death and asked him, “Why did you frighten my servant so?”

 “I am sorry. I did not mean to frighten him,” replied Death. “I was simply surprised to see him here in the marketplace, for I have an appointment with him in Samaria this evening.”

***

What Will People Say?

There is this story about a prince, his wife, their cow and what happened to them while they were walking together one day. I heard this story told many years ago. It struck me in the same way that many stories from many traditions have over the years. I like re-telling it every once in a while because it reminds me to keep what people say in perspective. This is the way I remember it.

***

Once there was a prince who was walking down the road one day with his wife. They were leading their cow along and enjoying their own company and quiet conversation. The three of them were in no particular hurry, as it was a very pleasant day, not too hot, and with plenty of shade along the way. 

As they went along they came upon a group of women sitting in the shade of some trees by the side of the road. The women were weaving baskets and chatting among themselves about this and that, as people will do. The prince greeted them politely as they passed, and his wife looked down shyly, not wanting to appear too bold. The women returned the prince’s greeting, as was the custom in their neighborhood.

As they passed on down the road, they heard the women talking about them among themselves. One of the women said to the others in a low voice, “Look at that man. How he disrespects his wife, making her walk when she could be riding easily upon that sturdy cow of theirs.” Now, in that country, it was very common for people to ride along on the back of one of their cows, guiding it with the lead rope, or, sometimes being led by their husband, or companion, much as people ride horses or donkeys in other countries. So, none of the other women in the little group found this to be a very strange thing to say.

Well, when the prince’s wife heard what the woman said, she turned to her husband and said, “Did you hear what they were saying about you? You are a prince, and no one should think that you are so proud not to show your wife the proper respect. You are a very good husband, and I don’t want people to think badly of you. Come, help me up on our gentle cow that I may ride. That way no one will think badly of you, and we will hear no more complaints as we go along.” And that’s what the prince did. They stopped and he helped his wife climb up and sit comfortably on the back of their cow. The cow was good-natured and did not mind, as the prince’s wife was dainty, and an easy load to carry. Then, the three continued their pleasant walk as they had before. This time the prince walked, leading the cow easily with the rope while his wife road comfortably upon the cow’s back. 

They had not gone too far when they came upon a group of men sitting in the shade off to the other side of the road. Like the women the three had passed earlier, the men were chatting quietly among themselves, telling stories and laughing. As before, the prince greeted them pleasantly, and the prince’s wife bowed her head showing the proper propriety. The men returned the prince’s greeting politely, as had the group of women, and the three companions passed on down the road. Just before they were out of earshot, the prince’s wife, who had very good ears, heard one of the men say to the others, “Look at the woman. How she disrespects her husband, making him walk along in the sun on this hot day, while she rides in comfort on their cow.”

Well, when the prince’s wife heard what the man said, she turned to her husband and said, “Did you hear what they were saying about you? You are a prince, and no one should think that you are so foolish as to marry a wife that does not show you the proper respect. You are a very good husband, and I respect you without measure. I don’t want people to think that you lack good judgment, and have not the wisdom to choose a good and proper wife who shows you the respect that you deserve. Come, help me down that you may ride and I will walk and lead the cow. That way no one will think badly of you or me, and we will hear no more complaints as we go along.” So, the prince did as his wife had suggested and helped her down from the cow. He then climbed up and settled himself comfortably on the cow’s back. The cow did not mind because, although the prince was tall and strong, the cow was very sturdy and could easily carry the weight of the prince without much more effort than when he carried the prince’s wife. And, so they continued their walk with the prince sitting easily upon the cow’s back and his wife leading the cow with the rope.

The three went on happily down the road in this way for some time until they happened upon another group of people eating a picnic lunch in the shade of the roadside trees. There were several families together with the usual assortment of fathers, mothers, uncles, aunts, cousins, and children of various ages. They made a happy looking group with their colorful clothes and jolly faces, sitting together eating and laughing as they shared their food and many tales from their lives. Just as before, the prince greeted them pleasantly from the back of the cow as his wife led the cow along the road. With so many mothers and children about, this time the prince’s wife smiled and nodded shyly at some of the mothers as she passed. Several members of the group, both men and women, asked the prince and his wife to join them and share their food and festivities. The prince graciously thanked them for their kindness and answered that he and his wife still had rather far to go before the day walked away from them, so that they must decline the kind invitation.  

With the prince riding and his wife leading the cow, the three continued on down the road. Now, you will remember that the prince’s wife had very good ears, so it will be no big surprise to you that before they went around the next bend in the road, the prince’s wife heard someone in the group say, “Look at that prince! How he disrespects his wife, making her lead the cow when she could be riding easily beside him upon that sturdy cow of theirs.” Some in the group began to murmur their agreement.

When she heard this, the prince’s wife’s ears began to burn with embarrassment and she said to her husband, “Did you hear what they are saying about you? People must not come to believe that you have no respect for your wife and treat her cruelly, as if she were a slacking servant. You must save your reputation and ride with me upon the back of our good and faithful cow.” So, to please his wife and all the people they might pass along their way, the prince joined his wife upon the cow’s back. The cow was quite used to carrying loads much heavier than the prince and his wife together, for it often pulled the plow, or pulled logs or stones from the fields, or carried grain, or pulled a wagon full of goods. They always treated the cow well, giving it plenty of good food and water, and time to rest when it needed it. And the prince and his wife were careful to sit quietly upon its back without jostling back and forth, so the cow could walk at an easy pace. In this way, with both the prince and his wife sitting comfortably together on their humble cow’s back, they passed on happily down the road. 

As it happened, when they had gone on for some time, the three came upon another small group of people traveling the other way along the road. As was their custom, the prince greeted the fellow travelers with pleasant grace, and his wife modestly lowered her eyes as they passed each other. The other travelers returned the greetings with good cheer and offered blessings for an easy journey for the prince and his wife, and continued on their way. 

Just before the other travelers passed out of the range of the prince’s wife’s hearing, which was a good ways, the prince’s wife overheard one of the travelers say, “Look at that prince and his wife! How cruel they are to their faithful cow, making him carry them both when they each have perfectly good legs to walk on themselves.”

When the prince’s wife heard this she was beside herself with frustration. She turned to her husband and said, “Did you hear what this new group of people think of us? We have tried every possible way to please those we have met along the way, and no one is satisfied! Someone is always unhappy with the way we are proceeding. How can we live up to all these different standards? What are we to do?”

The prince was not only kind and generous and polite, but also wise. He said to his wife, “We will never be able to please everyone, so why don’t we simply trust in our own judgment and please ourselves?” And that is what they decided to do. They both got down off the cow’s back and the three companions continued on happily as they had started out, each walking on their own legs and keeping pleasant company together. 

In this way the prince, his wife, and their cow learned to listen to the advice of others, but to trust most of all in their own judgment about how to walk along their path.

***

Ashtavakra

There is this story about a king who had a bad dream that troubled him very much, and a very special boy who helped him when no one else in all his kingdom could. Like most of the stories that I tell, I have heard it told many times by different people over the years. And, each telling is colored a little differently by the teller and circumstance, which brought it to mind. It comes from the Hindu tradition, and my kids will remind me that the names are different from the ones they heard me use when I told the story to them as they were growing up. In preparation for this telling, however, I looked up the story in some traditional Hindu works and found that I had been mispronouncing the names. The names my kids are used to hearing have been updated to correspond to the original characters from the Hindu tradition. I trust that these corrections will not interfere with the truth of the story for them, or for you.

***

Once there was a little boy whose name was Ashtravakra, and he had a crooked body. Ashtavakra means "cooked body," but how the boy came to have a crooked body is a story for another time. This story begins one day when Astravakra went to play with his friends, and they would not play with him. When he asked them why they would not play with him, they replied, “We are not allowed to play with the child of a jail bird.”

Ashtravakra went straight home to find his mother. When he found her, he told her what his friends had said, and asked, “Where is my father?”

“Your father is away on a journey,” his mother replied without meeting Ashravakra’s eyes.

Ashtravakra looked up at his mother and asked, “Mother, is my father in jail?”

At this, Ashtravakra’s mother started to weep. After she had wept for a little while, Ashtravakra led her to the settee and had her sit down. After a while, with great kindness, but in a very strong voice, Astravakra said, “Alright, stop weeping now, and tell me what has happened.”

Then, she told him the story, and this is the story that she told.

***

One night King Janaka, who was the king of the whole country in which they lived, went to bed in his own chambers, in his own bed, with his own trusted soldiers keeping guard outside his door.

The night outside was full of a strong storm. The wind blew. The clouds rolled over the trees of the forest that grew just across the field outside Janaka’s castle. The lightning lit up everything in the dark with quick white light. Thunder cracked and rumbled. The storm did not bother the King very much as he lay in his high poster bed, soft and cozy with many pillows and a thick down comforter, and he soon fell asleep.

 Sometime later the king awoke in the dark. The candles that lit his bedchamber with soft flickering light when he went to sleep had burned out some time before. He sat up and listened. Something had awakened him. At first he heard the storm banging around outside, making his shutters creak, and trees in the nearby forest moan in the wind. Then, closer, inside the castle, he heard voices rising into shouts and cries of alarm. At first they were in the courtyard far below. As he listened, the voices were joined by clashing of steel swords and armored shields. And… they were coming closer!

Janaka realized that the castle must be under attack. He jumped from his bed and went to the door of his bedchamber. He checked the locks and slipped the bolts into place, and listened with his ear to the thick old wood. He could make out the voices of some of his personal guards over the din of the cries and clatter of weapons at the other end of the hallway. He looked around for a way to escape, but saw nothing in the darkness.

As he listened at the door, it seemed to the king that the sounds were growing louder. Then he remembered his balcony that overlooked a field below. Dressed only in his nightshirt, Janaka quickly took the sheets and blankets from his bed and tied them together to make a rope. He then threw open the heavy curtains to the balcony, and tied the makeshift rope to the rail and lowered it into the dark.

The storm was still raging and by the time the king was ready to climb down his newly devised rope, his nightshirt was soaked through, and he was already starting to shake with cold.

When he reached the ground, the king was afraid for his life and struck out across the field toward the woods. The wind was blowing, driving the rain through his thin, soaked nightshirt and into his skin like tiny arrows. When the lightning burst out of the black sky, it startled Janaka, and the bright flashes made him dizzy. The thunder followed like canon fire. The king could not tell if it was the sound of the storm or the roar of real enemy canons. He staggered across the field toward the woods as fast as he could. The grain had been harvested from the field several weeks before, and the stalks had already been trimmed, leaving a carpet of sharp stubble under his bare feet.

At the edge of the forest, Janaka stopped and looked back down across the field for pursuing soldiers. The night was very dark and the storm continued to rage with sudden flashes and loud booms so that the sky flashed with white light and the ground shook. The king could not tell whether the shadows he saw and screeches he heard were from the storm coming through the trees on the edge of the forest, or from his enemies getting closer in his pursuit. He stood for a moment, shaking with cold and fear, until he decided to seek a hiding place in the woods.

As he pushed into the woods, the king stumbled over fallen trees, and was stung as small branches and bushes whipped across his eyes in the dark. It was not long before he was completely lost. He could not hear any sounds of his pursuers, and the in the depth of the forest he was protected from much of the harshness of the wind and rain. But, it was still very wet and he was very cold. The night passed as he wandered deeper into the trees looking for some kind of shelter. The morning brought grey light, but he was still hopelessly lost. He wandered for many more hours in his torn clothes as the trees dripped on his head. He was bruised and cut from the night before and now very tired and hungry as well.

Finally, he came upon a small clearing with a cabin in its midst. The cabin had a thread of smoke rising from its chimney, and looked inviting to him after his many hours in the forest. He went to the door and knocked.

An old woman opened the door a crack. “What do you want?” she asked.

“Please could I have some food, for I am lost and have been wandering through the forest all night without any rest” the king answered.

The woman was kind to him and said, “I am sorry but I have finished eating all of my food for the day. All I can offer you is some uncooked lentils and rice. You can take my pot and fill it in the stream down that path. You can cook it by the stream and return the pot when you are finished.”

So Janaka took the pot with uncooked lentils and rice to the stream where he washed them, and then set about making a fire on which he could cook them. All the tinder and wood he could find was still very wet from the storm, and he had to lie on the ground and keep blowing on the embers to keep the small fire going. His eyes and his lungs burned from the smoke, but what could he do? This was the only way to keep the fire lit while his food cooked.

Finally, after a great deal of time and effort, the rice and lentils were cooked enough to eat. The king set them aside on a log beside him to cool. Then, while he was sitting there, he heard a loud snorting and bellowing coming through the trees. When he looked up, he saw two water buffalo come fighting down the path toward him. He was able to jump out of their way just in time. But, when he went back to his little campsite, he found his meal trampled into the mud.

This was too much for the poor, tired king. His body was bruised. His eyes stung. His empty stomach groaned with no more hope of being filled. He threw himself on his face in the mud and began to weep. And, it was not long before he, tired and discouraged as he was, fell asleep.

The next thing Janaka knew, he was waking in his own bed, in his own room, in his own castle, in his own kingdom. And he was full of wonder.

“Am I now still in the forest in the mud asleep and dreaming that I am back in my own bed, in my own room, in my own castle? Or, am I really in the same bed that I crawled into last night, and awaking from a long and frightful dream?”

King Janaka assembled his closest and wisest advisors to answer this troubling question. They assured him,

“Oh King, you are certainly awake now in your own castle surrounded by your faithful servants, for here we are!”

But, Janaka was not so easily convinced. “How do I know that I am not dreaming still, and you and your words are not just a part of the dream I am having in the muddy forest?”

None could satisfy the king, try as they might. So, King Janaka had two chairs set up in his throne room, one lower and the other higher. Then he had his messengers carry a decree throughout his kingdom.  

The decree promised that whoever sat upon the lower chair and could answer the king’s question about waking and dreaming, could choose any one thing from his kingdom to take home as a reward. If, however, the person’s answer did not satisfy the king, off to the dungeon that person would go until such time as the king’s question had been finally answered.

Further, the decree continued, saying that whoever sat upon the higher chair and could answer the king’s question about waking and dreaming, would receive all that the king had as a reward. If, however, the person’s answer did not satisfy the king, that person would be summarily executed in the public courtyard.

Now, you can imagine that there were many who came to sit on the lower chair to try their luck for a precious trophy from the king’s treasury. And, you can also probably imagine that none were so certain of their answer that they sat upon the higher chair – their heads being more precious to them than all the king’s wealth.

***

Astavakra’s mother finished her story, telling that his father had gone to the king’s court, sat on the lower chair, and was unable to satisfy King Janaka’s question about waking and sleeping. And, now he waited with many others in the king’s dungeon for someone to free them with the answer the king sought.

Without hesitation, Ashtavakra replied, “Dear Mother, I will go and free my father.”

And so he went.

***

Upon his arrival at the palace gates, Astavakra told the gatekeeper why he was there, and gatekeeper began to laugh.

“Why do you laugh?” said Astavakra.

“Because the king’s dungeon is full of many older and wiser than you, who came and announced themselves to me. They went in, but have not yet returned. Now, go away and do not waste the king’s time with your foolish ideas,” was the gatekeeper’s reply.

“You know nothing of my ideas, and the decree says nothing about age or wisdom being required to enter” said Astavakra.

Now the gatekeeper was no longer certain what to do because this boy, though young and misshapen, spoke with clarity and confidence. He told Astavakra to wait while he went to summon the king’s advisors.

When the king’s advisors arrived, they treated Astavakra no better than had the gatekeeper. They laughed and scorned him before he ever spoke to them. When they then tried to question him about his ideas, Astavakra refused to speak to them. They wanted to send him away, but he would not leave and they were afraid to disobey the king’s decree. So, eventually word reached King Janaka of Astavakra’s presence at his gate.

***

When Astavakra was finally admitted to the king’s throne room, he went directly to the high chair and took a seat. This set off quite a clamor among the advisors and on-lookers. Then King Janaka called for silence and asked Astavakra why he would not speak to his advisors.

“Because,” replied Astavakra, “I will not speak with tanners.”

(Now, you should know that in that kingdom no one ate any meat, and animals were held to be sacred. Tanners were the people who made animal skins into leather for shoes and certain other goods, and they were considered by most of the people in the kingdom to be the lowest class of the populace. They were mostly ignored by others. To call the king’s advisors “tanners” was a very big insult.)

“Why do you call my advisors tanners?” asked King Janaka.

“Oh my liege, they only see the skin of things and judge accordingly. They look at my deformed body and young age, and base their opinions on what they see. They have no care for what dwells within this skin, nor what wisdom it might share” was Astavakra’s reply. This caused more murmurs and shuffling among the onlookers, but satisfied King Janaka.

“Now, I believe you have a question for me” Astavakra said to King Janaka.

The king told Astavakra of his dream and his confusion. He could no longer be sure of what was real and what was dream.

“You do not remember whence you came,” Ashtavakra said to the king. “If you did, you would know the difference between what is a dream, and what is real. You would not need to ask anyone else to tell you that you are awake or asleep,” he continued. “What you are looking for is someone who can awaken you to what is real within you. Then you will know for yourself what it is to be truly awake.”

King Janaka felt the power of the young boy’s words, and felt this boy with the crooked back was the one for whom he had been waiting. He felt suddenly very humble before this boy.

“Dear Ashtavakra,” Janaka said, “I feel you have the power to show me what is dream and what is real, if you so choose.” He paused, and Ashtavakra waited quietly for the king to continue. Janaka went on, “Would you please awaken me to what is real?”

At this, Ashtavakra smiled and replied simply, “Yes.” With this Janaka’s lessons began.

Once the king finished his talk with Ashtavakra, his first action was to free Ashtavakra’s father from his prison. All the others who had tried unsuccessfully to answer King Janaka’s question about which was his dream, and which his waking life, were also set free by the king’s decree.

In this way Ashtavakra kept his promise to his mother to free his father, and began to awaken King Janaka from his dreaming.

All For The Best

There is this story about a king, his favorite minister, and his favorite minister’s favorite saying. You may have already guessed that the favorite minister’s favorite saying was “All for the best.” This is an old story that came to me many years ago, handed down at story telling time one afternoon or evening.

***

Once there was a king who had a favorite minister. And, the minister had a favorite saying. Whenever something that seemed unfortunate happened, the minister would always say, “Well, don’t worry. It’s all for the best.”

Well, you know how it is to have a best friend, or maybe brother or sister, and to spend all your time together. After a while, you can start to get on each other’s nerves. This was starting to happen with the king and his favorite minister. The minister was starting to get on the king’s nerves.

One morning the king cut his finger. Well, when the king’s minister heard what had happened, he said, “Well, don’t worry it’s all for the best.”

When the king heard what the minster said, he became so angry that he commanded that the minister be taken to his dungeons, stripped, beaten, and only given bread and water to eat and drink until the king sent further orders. Then, the king went to the edge of his kingdom with a hunting party to better his mood.

The party reached the edge of the kingdom and began the hunt. But, it was not long before the king became separated from the rest of the party and began to wander alone. He had not been wandering on his own for long when he happened to fall into a tiger pit.

As it turned out, he was not long in the tiger pit before a scouting party from the neighboring kingdom found him and took him back to the center of their own kingdom. Everyone was very excited because they were preparing for the biggest festival of the year, and they needed a human sacrifice to offer to their gods. The king made the perfect offering. Not only was he royalty, which would please their gods, but, he did not come from their own tribe, which was starting to run short on suitable candidates for the ceremony.

The morning of the ceremony soon came, and the neighboring tribe’s priests began to prepare the king for the sacrifice. The first thing they did was to give the king a ritual bath. As they were washing the king, soap got in his cut finger and he cried out.

When the priests saw that the king was cut, they immediately thanked their gods for saving them from offering an imperfect sacrifice. Then they gave the king a royal escort back to his own kingdom.

Well, the first thing the king did upon his return to his own kingdom, was to have his favorite minister taken from the dungeon, washed, put in the king’s own bed, and attended to by his own physician and ladies in waiting.

When all the minister’s needs had been attended to and he was comfortable in the king’s chambers, the king went to the minister and told the story of everything that had befallen him since he sent the minister to the dungeon. When he was finished his tale, he said, “Now, I can see that you were right, and everything turned out ‘all for the best’.” Then the king paused for a moment.

“But, what I don’t understand is how could things have worked out ‘all for the best’ for you. You were stripped, beaten, thrown in my dungeon, which does not provide the best of accommodations. You were only given bread and water to eat and drink until my return. Now, how could this have worked out ‘all for the best’ for you?”

The king’s favorite minister smiled and answered, “Oh my king, if I had not been here in your dungeon, I would have been in the tiger pit with you. And, there was nothing wrong with me.”

***

In this way you can see that things really do work out all for the best. Many times you have to wait for enough time to pass for the full story to unfold. But, if you are patient and pay attention, life will continue and circumstances will change. And in the end, you will see that things have worked out ‘all for the best’.

july 23, 2013

The Turtles' Picnic

There is this story about three turtles. I first heard this story told by Prem Rawat, who is, among other things, the master of story telling. I am re-telling it here not because I can do it as well as he, but because I like it very much and want to understand it more completely in the re-telling. I hope I can do it the justice it deserves.

*** 

Once there were three turtles. Papa Turtle. Mama Turtle. And, Little Turtle. One day they decided to go on a picnic. So, Mama Turtle made some sandwiches and prepared the picnic basket for their outing. When all was ready, they started out. 

And they walked… 

And they walked…

And they walked… 

They were turtles, so you can imagine that they walked for a long time before they got very far.

Finally, they arrived at a nice spot in a meadow under a big, shady tree. Here they stopped and spread out their picnic blanket, and unpacked their picnic basket. As Mama Turtle was taking out the nice lunch she had prepared, she stopped. She looked through the picnic basket again, and then said, “Oh my. I forgot the pickles.”

“Oh my!” Said Papa Turtle with a fairly large sigh. “I was really looking forward to eating a nice pickle with my sandwich.”

“Well, what shall we do?” Said Mama Turtle. “I left them on the kitchen table.”

With that, Papa Turtle turned to Little Turtle and said, “Will you please run home and get the pickles?”

And Little Turtle said, “No.”

“What?” said Papa Turtle, very surprised. “Why won’t you go? 

“Because.” Little Turtle replied. “If I go, you will eat my sandwich while I am gone!”

“Oh, No, No, No!” Exclaimed Papa Turtle. “I PROMISE I will NOT eat your sandwich while you are gone.”

“I don’t believe you.” Little Turtle was very skeptical.

“Oh, please, please, please…” begged Papa Turtle. “I PROMISE I will not eat your sandwich while you are gone. A picnic is not a picnic without pickles to eat with your sandwich. And I was really looking forward to having a pickle with mine.”

Finally, Little Turtle reluctantly agreed to go back to their house and return with the pickles. But as he left, he kept stopping and turning his head away around to make sure his sandwich was still safe in the picnic basket. 

Papa Turtle and Mama Turtle settled themselves under the tree to wait for Little Turtle to come back with the pickles. 

And they waited…

And they waited…

And they waited…

Now, they were turtles, and they knew that even though Little Turtle was young and spry, it would still take him a long time to go home, get the pickles, and come back, even if he ran the whole way.

Well, one day passed… 

Then, the second day passed…

And, the third day also passed…

Finally, Papa Turtle was so hungry he could wait no longer, for he and Mama Turtle had long ago eaten their own sandwiches (without the pickles), and he went over and opened the picnic basket.

Just then, Little Turtle jumped out from behind a tree. “AH HA!” He cried. “I knew it. I knew you would eat my sandwich while I was gone!” He was triumphant.

*** 

In this way Little Turtle let his suspicion cause the very thing he was afraid of to come true. This is the way with most of us. We are all waiting for something to happen. And, as we wait, time is passing, taking with it the very gifts life has brought us in that moment. Little Turtle missed the picnic while he waited behind the tree for Papa Turtle to eat his sandwich. Better to appreciate what we have now and not be so distracted by the way we think things might be. What do you think?

 october 30, 2013