Here's the other tale that's been told many times, and again, I love it so much that I've put it into my own words. To me where one's attention is placed is absolutely subtle and accurate even if one is not aware of this precision. Denial is the sin of not knowing what one is attending to -- sublimation being an example. This story touches several other core concepts too. Enjoy.
Edg HEARTS AND HEADS So long ago that today's world would be almost pure magic to them, two monks were close friends in the river side ashram of their guru. In that age, one would see something in the eyes of the guru, and from that point on, one was a dead duck, a total goner, in-the-cult-fer-shur, done deal, and well-cooked goose. One would wash the clothes, tend the garden, sweep the floors, and do anything to be of a help to the ashram's community of spiritual adherents, and so be allowed to hang around with the guru. Over time, by psychoalchemy and osmosis, the very personality of the guru would be imbued into them -- especially those with open hearts. The days passed in strict routine. Same food, same work, same study, same rough cloth robes, same lecture hall, SAME! It won't take much to imagine how boring it could become -- especially to these two young monks. They were, ah, so young. Young enough that, despite their love for the guru, their deep understanding about the tenants of spirituality, and their almost desperate need to become enlightened, they still could be had. Yep, had. Oh let me tell you, brothers and sisters, had. Yes, brethren, Had. And that started with H back then, and that didn't rhyme with T, but it stood for trouble just the same, right there in River City. You know, HAD! No matter how much you get your life together, no matter how structured your environment, no matter how deep your intellectual grasp of how evolution works, no matter how spit polished you can get your sandal straps, you CAN BE HAD! And so it was that the monks would stand aside under a tree between tasks and talk with each other about the life on the other side of the ashram's walls. And, of course, a great L of a longing arose in their hearts to know something more about the wicked world -- especially the warm, soft, cooing parts. Finally hadness was fully risen, and they determined to sneak out at night and sample the hereinaboveaforementioned wares of those who would willing provide the exact increase in temperature they sought from cuddly cooers. But, ah, even hadness is not absolute. Yeah, you're gonna get it leaking into the most retentive communities, but even a heart fully aflame can sometimes weasel out on ya, and the next thing you know, you're back in the fold without ever having had even a whiff of the fragrances that cloaked the cooers. And so, get this, there they are at the fence, the evening lecture is about to start, and one monk stops hearing the call of the wild. "I can't go. I must take a hold of myself. I'm going to lecture." "I understand, but I've got to go. I''ll be back tonight." And over hopped one, and off to the lecture hoped the other. Now here is the strange part. During the lecture, the hoper imagined the hopper's exploits. "Oh, by now, surely he is ...... And, I''ll bet that rascal is ...... I just know he's ......" Now, at the end of the lecture, questions and answers were allowed, and this nightly dialog was where the community would touch upon any issue mundane or spiritual. But, at least one young monk was mentally asking himself. "Why didn't I go with him? Ooooo, I wonder what he's doing right now?" Finally, as the night was closing, at last, this young, lone, monk stood and asked, "Guruji, please help me understand the ways of my heart. Tonight, one of us is missing. I saw him go straight to town, and I know what he was planning on doing, for indeed, I was planning on going with him. But at the last, I knew it was right to stay here. And now, I find I cannot forgive him. It seems such an affront to all that we do here and our great love for you and your life's work. He's been gone for hours now, and, alas, I can only imagine what now cannot be undone." All eyes were on the guru's face. All knew who was missing. All knew what the town offered. All knew that the guru would know how to properly separate hopers from hoppers, and guide them. And, lo, it was so. This guru wasn't faking ANYTHING. Infinity was his middle name. If turned into a human being, Righteousness would have been found supplicating before him. We're talkin'' GURU here! Just as the guru was about to speak, everyone could see that the his eyes had become focused on someone just arriving at the back of the room. Without even turning around, all knew that only one person could possibly be coming there at that hour. It was, indeed, the wayward monk. The guru spoke. "Tell me." Without hesitation, the young man spiritually sank to his knees, and looking downwards began to describe his exploits that evening with complete honesty. And soon they all knew that, now, fully entered into the history of ALL THIS, all that their uppercase F Fear could have trepidated about had happened. After he stopped speaking, the silence in the room went from not-a-sound to not-a-thought. Everyone waited for the guru to speak before they would think again. "How did it feel?" Can you imagine the one single thought everyone in the room had next? The young man sank even further, and now, whatever had kept his body standing evaporated -- flaming to nothingness -- in an inner conflagration fanned by shame. He collapsed to the floor with a sigh, and again, recounted his actions and told how it had felt to be tortured all night, how, he could not stop seeing the guru in his mind and imagining what the guru would think, and what the guru would do, and what the guru would say to him. Well, you get the picture -- this kid could have been a hollowed out human balloon for all the eating-himself-up-inside he had done that night. The guru spoke: "How many here knew he was missing tonight?" All hands rose. "So, for this I give thanks -- that one of you spent the entire evening with me." With that, he stood, and the evening was over.
