The Path Up The Mountain of Wisdom ~ by Joe Flowers
A young man seeking wisdom traveled far in his search, and one day he came to a Guru seated at the base of a mountain, and said, “I have been told by many and sundry that you know the path up the Mountain of Wisdom. Is this true?”
“Yes, it is,” said the Guru, who had a flowing white beard and long bushy white eyebrows that curled up at the tips. He was wearing nothing of any consequence save for some beads around his neck and a dhoti wrapped modestly about his loins.
“Is this the mountain?” asked the Seeker.
“Yes it is,” said the Guru. “There is only one mountain. I am the guardian of the path.”
“Can you take me up the path?”
The Guru’s great curling eyebrows scrunched together in a furrow of doubt. He was silent for a long time, gazing at the Seeker as if he could see deeply into him. Finally he said,
“I can take you up the path, but can you follow? The way is long and arduous, the difficulties many, the temptations to turn aside are legion. Many attempt the path, few succeed.”
“I would like to try.”
“You will have to serve as my chela, my disciple, and do whatever I ask, no matter how difficult, until we get to the top.”
“I promise,” said the Seeker.
So they set off up the path, the Guru moving with amazing speed for so old a man, the Seeker puffing to keep up. The path was, indeed, long. Hours became days, days turned into weeks. The Seeker would have become lost many times without the Guru. At various points the Guru stopped and made the Seeker perform some task or learn some skill, often what seemed to the Seeker a senseless one. The Guru would go no further until the Seeker had learned the skill. Months went by. Further and further up the mountain they toiled, through brambles and deep canyons, over rocks and through caves. They never met anyone else on the path.
After some time (the Seeker had long lost track, but I will tell you that it was, to be precise, one year, one day, four hours and seven minutes since they had started), they reached the summit of the Mountain of Wisdom. It was broad and flat and, to the Seeker’s enormous surprise, crowded. The Guru seemed to know who everyone was and, standing on a small prominence, he pointed them out for the Seeker — the milling crowds of Hindus, Jews, Muslims, Buddhist monks, Catholic nuns and priests, as well as badminton players, rock stars, stockbrokers, mothers with babies, grandmothers, a woman Prime Minister, four astronomers and at least one rodeo clown. As they watched, what looked like a tour bus drove up onto the mountain from the other side.
The Seeker sat down, speechless. Finally he looked at the Guru, struggling to get out the words.
“But . . . you said . . . one path.”
“No,” said the Guru gently. “I said, `One mountain.’ There are many paths.”
“But . . . your way was so difficult. And we never met anyone.”
“That was not my way. That was your way. Everyone has their own. That was the easiest path you could have taken. The path to wisdom is always exactly hard enough — that is, it is excruciatingly difficult. You must trust me on this.”
The Guru turned to the young Seeker and said, “Well, that’s enough rest, Let’s start down.”
The Seeker was startled all over again. “Head down? Whatever for?”
“Why, so that we can try another path.”
“What?” cried the Seeker. “I wanted to stay here. Wasn’t that the whole point?”
“Oh, no.” The Guru seemed shocked. “No one is allowed to stay here. Do you see any houses up here? Oh, no, no, no, no. If wisdom is what you seek, it is here on this mountain. You must ascend the mountain over and over again, by one path and then by another. That is how we attain wisdom. That’s how I became a guru, and that’s why I scoot up the mountain so easily. Come along!”
And with that he hopped off the rock and vanished back the way they had come.
