Post by Seth Asathi on Sept 16, 2006 7:52:50 GMT -5
There was once a muse, a source of inspiration who was always misunderstood. She believed most that we should never forget the important things we learn, so she always made the lessons tougher than anyone else.
She gave us the test first, knowing that if we were observant we would pass it. Pass or fail, the lesson would come afterwards, and she'd make sure we remembered it. After all, it was important to her.
One day she came across a young man who thought very highly of himself, and though she understood his pride, she disliked his conceit. She pondered the problem, and decided that the best way to show him his flaw was to give him a test. If he was as wonderful as he seemed to believe, surely he could pass it, and learn.
She tested his common sense, weighed against his generosity. He chose generosity, knowing the risks... and the price was his posessions.
He sighed, and shook his head, realizing his loss wasn't so important, and kept walking. The muse pondered this, and satisfied with the result, observed for a while longer. Still he thought too highly of himself, not for the things he had, but for how smart he was.
She pondered this for a time, and realized that the best way to teach him was to give another test. She inspired him to try something he hadn't done before. Inspired him to figure out a complex puzzle without any prior teaching on the task. He struggled with it, for days he tried, but emerged defeated. He simply could not make it work. A small child approached, and within moments solved the riddle.
Frustrated, and discouraged, the man walked to the top of a mountain, where he sat, watching all of the valley below him, pondering his situation. He realized he wasn't as smart as he assumed, but agreed that neither was he a fool. He was not worse than anyone else, but no longer did he believe he was above them.
The muse was satisfied with that result, and watched him for a while longer. No longer did he pride himself on his posessions, or his sharp mind, but he was still conceited. He thought himself far too wise for his trials.
The muse pondered this for a time, and decided that one more test was in order. She brought him to a conflict, and let him sort it out. He did so, but it was decided rather firmly, with no room for change. Many people were upset by this, but they agreed to the decision, and let it be. It was, after all, fair enough.
The man sat on his mountain top again, and stared into a pool of rainwater. Another man happened past, he had seen the decision, and decided to give the first man a lesson.
"Take two rocks," The wandering man said. "And throw one into that pool. The goal is to make the rock touch the bottom of the pool."
The conceited man threw the rock, as hard as he could, and it struck the water with a splash, sliding quickly to the bottom, where it caused a cloud of dust to surface in the water. He laughed and took pride in how hard he could throw.
The wandering man smiled and said "The object was to make the rock touch the bottom of the pool, not to disrupt things further." Taking the other stone, he walked up to the pool, placed the stone on the surface of the water, and let it go. It slipped gently through the water, settling next to the first stone, kicking up a little dust which settled immediately.
A wave of understanding flowed over the conceited man, as the wandering man took his leave. He surely did accomplish the goal, and yet he failed. He did not listen to the man, but made a decision based on what he wanted to do.
Later that day, he gathered together the conflicting people, and listend to each of their issues, talking to all of them and letting them work out their own differences peacefully. They complimented him on his wisdom but he turned the words aside. "I am not worthy of such high praise, friends. I am merely a man who has seen his flaws."
The muse, finally satisfied with the man, watched him for a time, just as she watched everyone else. For she was experience, matron mother of our worldly wisdom.
She gave us the test first, knowing that if we were observant we would pass it. Pass or fail, the lesson would come afterwards, and she'd make sure we remembered it. After all, it was important to her.
One day she came across a young man who thought very highly of himself, and though she understood his pride, she disliked his conceit. She pondered the problem, and decided that the best way to show him his flaw was to give him a test. If he was as wonderful as he seemed to believe, surely he could pass it, and learn.
She tested his common sense, weighed against his generosity. He chose generosity, knowing the risks... and the price was his posessions.
He sighed, and shook his head, realizing his loss wasn't so important, and kept walking. The muse pondered this, and satisfied with the result, observed for a while longer. Still he thought too highly of himself, not for the things he had, but for how smart he was.
She pondered this for a time, and realized that the best way to teach him was to give another test. She inspired him to try something he hadn't done before. Inspired him to figure out a complex puzzle without any prior teaching on the task. He struggled with it, for days he tried, but emerged defeated. He simply could not make it work. A small child approached, and within moments solved the riddle.
Frustrated, and discouraged, the man walked to the top of a mountain, where he sat, watching all of the valley below him, pondering his situation. He realized he wasn't as smart as he assumed, but agreed that neither was he a fool. He was not worse than anyone else, but no longer did he believe he was above them.
The muse was satisfied with that result, and watched him for a while longer. No longer did he pride himself on his posessions, or his sharp mind, but he was still conceited. He thought himself far too wise for his trials.
The muse pondered this for a time, and decided that one more test was in order. She brought him to a conflict, and let him sort it out. He did so, but it was decided rather firmly, with no room for change. Many people were upset by this, but they agreed to the decision, and let it be. It was, after all, fair enough.
The man sat on his mountain top again, and stared into a pool of rainwater. Another man happened past, he had seen the decision, and decided to give the first man a lesson.
"Take two rocks," The wandering man said. "And throw one into that pool. The goal is to make the rock touch the bottom of the pool."
The conceited man threw the rock, as hard as he could, and it struck the water with a splash, sliding quickly to the bottom, where it caused a cloud of dust to surface in the water. He laughed and took pride in how hard he could throw.
The wandering man smiled and said "The object was to make the rock touch the bottom of the pool, not to disrupt things further." Taking the other stone, he walked up to the pool, placed the stone on the surface of the water, and let it go. It slipped gently through the water, settling next to the first stone, kicking up a little dust which settled immediately.
A wave of understanding flowed over the conceited man, as the wandering man took his leave. He surely did accomplish the goal, and yet he failed. He did not listen to the man, but made a decision based on what he wanted to do.
Later that day, he gathered together the conflicting people, and listend to each of their issues, talking to all of them and letting them work out their own differences peacefully. They complimented him on his wisdom but he turned the words aside. "I am not worthy of such high praise, friends. I am merely a man who has seen his flaws."
The muse, finally satisfied with the man, watched him for a time, just as she watched everyone else. For she was experience, matron mother of our worldly wisdom.
