The Wisdom of the Sands

A stream, from its source in far away mountains passing through
every kind and description of countryside at last reaches the sands of the desert.

Just as it had crossed every other barrier, the stream tried to cross this one too.

But it found that as it flowed into the sands, its waters simply disappeared.

It was convinced however, that its destiny was to cross

this desert as well, and yet - there was no way.

Now, a hidden voice, coming from the desert itself, whispered:

the wind crosses the desert, and so can a stream.

The stream objected that it was only dashing itself

against the sands and being absorbed; that the wind could fly,

and this was why it could cross the desert, but How can I?

By hurtling in your own accustomed way, you cannot get across.

You will either disappear or become a marsh;

you must allow the wind to carry you over to your destination,

replied the desert. But how can this happen? asked the stream.

By allowing yourself to be absorbed into the wind, the desert replied.

This idea was not acceptable to the stream,

after all - it had never been absorbed before,

it did not want to lose it's individuality!

And once having lost it, how was one to know if it could ever be regained?

The wind, said the whisper, performs this function.

 

It takes up the water and carries it over the desert and then lets it fall again.

Falling as rain, the water again becomes a river.

But, how can I know that this is true? protested the stream.

It is so! replied the whisper, and if you do not believe it,

you cannot become more than a quagmire,

and even that could take many, many years. In any case,

it will certainly not be the same as being a stream!

But, asked the stream, can I not just stop here

and remain the same stream I am today?

You cannot, in any way, remain the same, whispered the desert sands.

Movement is your very nature. It will never cease until your

true destination has been reached. When the stream deeply considered this,

echoes of the truth began to arise in its mind. Yes, this is true.

He understood that this was the only real and intelligent thing to do.

And the stream raised its vapors into the welcoming arms of the wind,

which gently and easily bore it upwards and along, letting it fall

softly as soon as it reached the roof of the distant mountains.

It was now able to remember its prior dilemma in the desert

and now realized the goal of its long journey,

its true identity and the deathless nature of its true being.

And this is why, it is said, that the way by which the stream of life

crosses the desert of this world, is written in the sands.