A parable III

As I drove on the interstate heading toward Lowell, I saw a motorcycle coming up fast behind me. It was changing lanes as the man expertly swerved and maneuvered through traffic. As the bike passed me on the left, I looked over briefly to see a younger man without a helmet looking back toward me as he passed. His upper body was covered in tattoos. He nodded once at me as he roared past. Something about him seemed familiar. He sped on, and I forgot about him after a couple of minutes.

Pulling into the industrial warehouse parking lot, I drove around the side of the long building and parked. When I exited the building, I saw that the man who passed me on the motorcycle was in the parking lot. He leaned against his bike as if he were waiting. He was close to the entrance I needed. 

As I drew closer, he nodded and said, “Hello, X.” 

I stopped and looked at him, trying to place him in my memory. When my eyes met his, I realized it was the man who once answered to the name Joshua. Gone were the wrinkles and gray hair. 

“I see that you’re starting to see things as they are, X.” Joshua smiled intently.

“It’s quite a shock to recognize you, even though you’ve changed your camouflage, Joshua.” 

“X, I never camouflage. I am each of the people you see and am always myself. Simplicity is always complex, and vice versa, if you’re paying attention. And I think that you are.” Joshua laughed, this time a young man’s laugh, full of baritone and vitality. 

“I wish I could do that, Joshua. Change things up at will.” I smiled at my cleverness.

“But you can. When you realize it, you’ll wonder why you put on the same clothes and followed the same unsurprising path each morning.” 

“Joshua, I can’t change everything about myself on a whim like you.” I thought I had him cornered with my reply. I should have known better.

“I haven’t changed. It is your perception of me, X. When I passed you on the interstate, you only saw a speeding tattooed young man on his way to trouble. Am I wrong?”

I hesitated. “Well, yes. But that’s because that’s what I saw, Joshua.”

Joshua smiled. “What have I told you about how much of an illusion your eyes provide you? I ride the interstate like I am to remind people of the part of their nature that they think they miss. Adventure, being carefree, happy, without a care – and even danger. The illusion is that they already have all those things each day, if they choose them. It is a choice. And the universe is not a safe place to believe otherwise.”

I nodded because it always sounded true when he spoke, even if I didn’t understand the nuance. We usually do recognize truth, even if it is only in tiny morsels. And sometimes, not even when life gives it to us via a board across the back of our heads. 

“I look like this because people only see the truth from a place or person they are familiar with. Some see it in older people, some in teachers, and others in the clergy. Others find it in nature. Everyone would be happier if they realized that they could learn from anyone. That includes laborers, ex-convicts, and even the angry man shouting three doors down. Life is the teacher, and each person plays a role, positive or negative. But they must be willing to experience life from that perspective. You wouldn’t invest your life’s earnings with me, would you? But you’d assume I could change the tire on a car.”

“Damn, you got me again, Joshua.”

“Just don’t let your eyes or experience make assumptions for you, X. Everything has something to teach you.” He smiled again.

“Okay.”

“You promise?” He asked. “Ex nihilo nihil fit,” he added. “I don’t mean it in the philosophical sense. You can’t squeeze juice from a rock or get meaning from life unless you learn and pay close attention. Always.” 

With those inscrutable words, Joshua turned and sat on his motorcycle.

“I’ll see you another day, Joshua. Be safe.”

“There is no safety. Just precaution. You’ll learn about that, too. But another day, X.”

Just as my mouth opened to reply, Joshua’s bike roared to life, and he sped away, around the building and probably back toward the interstate. 

When I finished my errand, I drove back to the interstate, watching the hundreds of vehicles merge, pass, and continue on. Each contained someone who could teach me something if I listened.

Love, X

.

A Parable II

I was bone-weary after work, waiting for my second or third wind to invigorate me. Because I’ve learned that it works the other way around and that movement precedes energy, I drove several miles to be close to the river. I walked barefoot along the rocks and underbrush, not knowing if I was trespassing or who owned the land. After twenty minutes, the sun came through the clouds and warmed me considerably. I rolled up my pants and waded into the river until the water reached above my knees. I wanted to swim across to the other bank. 

From behind me, a familiar voice startled me. I couldn’t quite place the voice. When I turned to see who was on the bank, I saw an older man holding a walking stick. His dark eyes watched me intently. 

“Are you lost in thought out there?” 

“Yes, I am. I was certain I was alone out here,” I replied. “You look and sound familiar.”

The old man smiled. “You met me a couple of weeks ago by the creek, sitting on the bench.” His smile became slightly quizzical.

I nodded. “You look…different, though. And your voice is deeper.”

“Sometimes I change what is concealing me.” I knew he wasn’t talking about just his clothing. It surprised me that I wasn’t concerned or alarmed. Some people seem to be exactly who they are no matter how you see them.

“I’m X, by the way. What’s your name?” 

He nodded. “I know who you are, of course. Most people used to call me Joshua, X. It’s as good a name as any.” He looked up. “I can call it the sky or the above; it’s still the same thing.” 

I laughed. Having changed my name, which I felt he somehow knew, I understood better than most. 

“Nice to meet you, Joshua.”

Joshua nodded.

“X, what was on your mind when you got out there in the water?” 

I shook my head. “I guess it’s the mess we make of our lives when our words and actions don’t align. People are a constant source of letdown, Joshua.”

Joshua grinned, this time with a wide smile, exposing brilliantly white teeth. “A better way to demonstrate what motivates you is how you act. Words are easy. People should be able to watch you and see. Even if they don’t know what motivates you, they can see the behaviors that faithful and loving people are supposed to emulate. And I don’t mean that phony way that so many assume when they’ve seen a part of the light. Love only exists when it’s expressed through behavior.”

“I’m not sure I agree. If someone is holding me and telling me that they love me, isn’t that part of it?” 

“You’ve missed the subtle point. They are showing you through behavior. They are with you, giving their time, presence, and focus. People make time for the things they value, just as they shun what they don’t. If you learn to watch them, you’ll know. That closeness is the gift.” 

“Damn, you’re right!”

“Yes, I know.” He waited a second before laughing. “When you first went into the river, I saw you looking across it. If you want to get across the river without having to swim, just walk directly toward the dead tree over there.” He pointed at a broken tree near the water’s edge on the opposite shore. 

“How will I get back across?” I sounded stupid when I said it.

“No, it’s not stupid. I will leave my walking stick here in the mud like I always have. You just need to look for it when you’re ready to come back.”

“Deal,” I said and turned to walk across the river’s unseen depths. I don’t know why I didn’t doubt him. “I’ll see you later, Joshua.”

“Surely you will, X,” the old man said as I started wading across the river. When I reached the opposite bank, I turned and saw the walking stick jutting from the mud of the riverside, just as he promised. 

I spent an hour walking the woods on the otherwise unreachable side of the river before returning to find my way toward the walking stick. As I passed it, I left it in the mud for the next person to find. Although I doubted many people found their way to this spot given the difficulty of doing so, I have learned that someone always follows in the steps you’ve walked. 

Love, X

. 

A Parable

I sat down on the wooden bench so that I could watch the birds and listen to the stream. It wasn’t my intention to engage the older man sitting on the other end, his walking stick in his hand.

After a minute, he asked me what was on my mind. No introduction and no small talk to precede it. I’m accustomed to being the one to engage in such a manner. 

Without preamble, I told him the truth in the simplest way I thought possible.

“I can tell you the answer, but you won’t believe it,” he said, nodding and shaking his head.

“I’m game. Let’s hear it.”

“You need a mirror.”

I knew he wasn’t referring to my appearance. 

“Yes. You’re metaphorically saying I am the source of my problems. Because I damn well know what they are and choose to tread water.”

“You are not a tree. You were created mobile. But you were also given reason and memory. It seems to me that you believe that your past controls you. Action is what is required. That coupled with remembering that thoughts have no power unless you give them such.”

I smiled. “Easier said than done!”

He smiled back at me. “No, it is easier done than said. Thinking is the problem. You know who you are and what you need to do. Now get up and do it. It’s going to be hard either way. Wouldn’t you rather reach my age and feel like your life reflected your choices rather than trying to find a way to make the unworkable work for you?”

I set silently for a moment. The old man continued to look up at the trees and watch for birds. 

As I stood up, I nodded toward the man.

“I’m walking now. Thank you.”

“Don’t stop,” he said and smiled.

The birds above us took flight from the cover of the leaves and darted away. 

Love, X