Part 1

(…from Number Four
 The Ass of Pahkding

 …I was in Nepal, in the mountains and, after having trekked to eighteen thousand feet had descended some and spent the night in Namche, a small community, in altitude about twelve thousand.  This being my first visit I had a guide and a porter, and this story begins as we departed Namche.

            I was irritable, paranoid, wanting to dominate…a development often encountered in those descending from somewhat high places.

            (I was not directly mean to my friends, but they could tell from my attitude that I was busy disliking everything…and was filled with distrust).

            So…we left Pahkding…two nice people, and an ass…with my friends walking well ahead, the trail beginning to wend slowly upward from the river to where it will bend eastward to face Lukla.  At the bend you don’t see Lukla but, rather, orchards immediately there to your right, to the south, beginning just a few feet beneath the side of this trail.  Rock walls are at the edges of your way, and a forest is to the north where the land is higher.

            As you travel with me you see these things…I don’t; I’m in the cloudiness that I’m not trying to see through. I’m enjoying it!

            Suddenly there is, ahead, that which we all see.  To the left, the wall has been adjusted to accommodate the presence of a Buddhist shrine several feet high.  Standing next to it is a girl of about eight years of age…who is looking at me.  She is smiling.  In her hand is a bouquet of flowers.

            I looked behind me to see if the object of her attention were some other person.  There was no one else.

            Beginning to walk toward me, she was holding forward the flowers.  She tripped, and dropped them to the ground.  Then I could see that it was a wreath, fashioned in such a way allowing each stem to pass through a slit in another.  With a look of consternation, she kneeled and took the wreath into her hands.

            Several had broken.  Tossing those aside, she connected the remaining flowers to each other.  Now the wreath was smaller.

            The smile reappeared, and she looked at me.  At that instant I knew she was not asking for money.

            As I took this gift into my hands and looked at her, I was flushed with emotion.  For a few seconds, I stood smiling in return.  I was wanting to respond properly…but I didn’t know if I could…so I was feeling inadequate.  I strained to be deserving.

            All I could do was love.

            I said “Thank you!”

            She bowed, yet smiling, then walked away…on the trail I had just traveled.

            I turned away and walked on, in a couple dozen steps coming to a bend in the trail.  There, a middle-age woman was before me, an English lady.  She said “Excuse me!”…in seeking my attention.

            That’s when I became aware I yet held the little girl’s flower wreath at my chest.  And…in embarrassment, I lightly pointed out that I was doing it.

            The woman smiled, in an easy manner, and said “That’s acceptable.  Sir…I don’t want to bother you, but would you have a wooly cap I can buy?”

            I said “Yes…at the top of my pack.  This morning I took it from the bottom.”  So…putting down my things, I got out the hat and showed it to her.  “It’s new, “ I added.  “I bought it in Kathmandu…and never did wear it.”

            “May I buy it?”

            “I’ll give it to you,” I answered.  “I don’t need it.”

            I gave her the hat, retrieved my pack and the flowers, and went on my way.

            After a dozen steps I was around another bend…and feeling that what happened with the little girl and the woman was of a single unit of action presented.

            I was emptied.  Without thought.  As I walked I was wholly of where I was…without trying to be of it; I was loving it, without trying to.  Cleared…thoughtless love was there first.

            In “feeling”…in a dawned awareness…I was where I was meant to be.  I was being held.  I was in a fated situation.

Part 2

The Inn of the Seventh Sorrow
(…from Act 3 Scene 1)

            (Elf is in the mountains.  He has arrived at a teahouse.  This is a place along the way.)

            At the teahouse, Elf sits on the porch drinking tea.  It is obvious that he heard the questioning of the old man.

Teahouse lady-

            Enter!…you handsome man.

Old priest-

            You must be praising a kind heart…daughter.

Teahouse lady-

            I know two men who can have what they want.

Elf-

            And Yet…I was about to offer him a cup of tea.

Old priest-

            Then…when she gives the tea, hand me a cube of sugar, if it pleases you.

            The lady brings them tea, and pours it.  Elf gives a cube of sugar to the priest.

Teahouse lady-

If this were cool…you could hold the sugar on your tongue, and let the tea run over it.

Old priest-

            Long ago, I had a shower under cold water falling from a mountain stream.

Elf-

            But you must have had many.

Old priest-

I did.  But I only need the one…to be part of that day.  (He drops the sugar cube into the tea, and has a sip.).

Elf-

            Will you go to Shanghai?  I heard you say it.

Old priest-

I seek a much younger man that I…who has questions.  He will ask:  “If my mind is clear…will my proper path unfold clearly?”.

Elf-

            Would it? I, too, need to know that.

Old priest-

But…your path might be to walk through the dark.  If so…your path can be clear, as you proceed blindly.

Elf-

            Can I tell you a story?

Old priest-

            Proceed.

The teahouse lady sits with them, to listen.

Elf-

When I was in Nepal, in Kathmandu, I bought a wool cap…and during a three week trek to Everest base camp, up and down, I never did use it.  It lay on the bottom of my pack, until one day, when I was back down to near the end of my journey, I too it, for no discernible reason, from the bottom and put it on top.

Teahouse lady-

Good story!  I’ll tell it to my husband…unless he’s you…in which case we already know it.

Elf-

That’s not it!  Listen!  When I came down from Everest, I was several days in a state of anger and distrust…sort of a blind hate, caused by fatigue and high altitude…and my inferiority, in not being able to prevent it and in not caring to put it aside.  I seemed to be enjoying it…I…

Old Priest-

            Such attachments cling like leeches to a man’s soul.

Elf-

I came upon a small Buddhist shrine…perhaps three feet wide and as many high…and beside it stood a girl of eight or nine.  She held a wreath of flowers.  As I got near, she smiled and came forward.  I looked behind me…to see if there were someone else, but I was the only one.  She tripped…and, in falling, dropped the wreath…and broke it.

Old priest-

            And…in the fall…a moment of compassion.  It helped clear you.

Elf-

            I…never did think of that.

Old priest-

            Please…speak on.  My life is nearly over.

Elf-

Each stem being slitted to accept another…she removed a bit of it and made the whole smaller.  Again smiling…she came to me, gave me the flowers…and smiled.  She did nothing other that that.

Old priest-

In realizing she wanted only to give, you felt inadequate…at the doorstep of that which is beyond man.

Teahouse lady-

            At the doorstep of God?

Elf-

After I thanked her, and she smilingly turned away, I walked on.  Just then…as I rounded a bend in the trail, there appeared a lady, well-bundled, who said “Excuse me, sir…do you have a wooly cap I could buy?”.  An English lady it was, although I never did see her clearly.  She was hidden in her clothing.  Anyway…at this moment I was free of hate.  No!...that’s not the way to say it.  I was loving.  Yes, that’s it!

Old priest-

            No need to rush ahead with your story.  We have three more hours of daylight.

Elf-

I said to her “Yes, I have one…it’s on the top of my pack.  I never did use it.  Take it!  It’s yours!".  And for awhile I seemed to be above the usual human condition.  I remained empty…resting within fate…outside free will or decision.  I was where I ought to be, doing what I ought to do.

Old priest-

In being empty you continued to love.  As the universe is harmonic at its base, what else was there to do?...and where else was there to be?

Elf-

            But why did I soon leave that condition?

Old priest-

You weren’t ready to stay in it.  You didn’t want to.  So…as you left that condition, and began sifting through the usual…what were you looking for?  What are you looking for now?  Don’t give me generalities.  Of course you’re looking for peace of mind, and for love…and what both offer as to being able to serve.  Now tell me the other part of the story.

Elf-

            Other part…?