River

Early in the morning the Master and the pupil set off for a hike to the mountains.

They came to a river.

“Let us rest for a while”, said the Master, “and you tell me about that river!”

So they found themselves a good stone to sit on. The pupil spoke about what he knew and what he saw. They had a pleasant talk.

When the pupil had finished, the Master said: “Allow me to share a story my Master passed on to me.

A king called the three wisest men of his kingdom to his throne.

The king said: ‘There is this great river that waters the fields of my kingdom and brings new life every year. Yet never have I fully understood its nature. You are said to be wise men, so you go and understand the river!’

The wise men took the order, humbly they bid farewell to the king and pondered how to fulfill their mission.

As it is with old wise men, they rarely agree on anything. Still they all can be right.

The first wise man came to the river. He saw the gurgling water and decided to find the river’s source. He went for a long journey, upstream along the river.

The second wise man built himself a raft and set off downstream to see and study all the places the river’s waters nourished.

The third wise man sat on a rock next to water, watched the bubbles, the foam and the waves. He medidated in perfect peace.”

The Master fell silent, watching the fish swim about in a shallow spot.

The pupil was unsatisfied with the story’s end.

Almost angry he asked: “And who was right?”

The Master smiled, and he said: “The river, I suppose.”