Wisdom of a Monk

in #fiction7 years ago

It was a rainy day that one time but I had to hit the road. The journey was long and no more time could be spared. Naturally, I was the only one driving, surrounded by the natural skirmishes of mother nature. The rear window was hammered by rain and I could feel it almost crack under the pressure. I was feeling weary just like my tires and longing for a rest. Eventually, the rain and wind were growing stronger, the wheel started feeling heavier and I started slowly tilting from left to right. The fear was growing stronger in me and the image from afar was becoming more blurry as was my vision. I felt that it was time to stop, take rest and wait until the weather had started looking in my favour. I pulled over to the side of the road, not being able to clearly see my surroundings and hoped that I would not be standing on someone’s way. I crawled to the backseat and my head hit dry, cold and stiff cushions.
I woke up to a noise of something hitting my car. Everything felt hazy and it took me a while to come back to my senses and remember where I was. The fog outside was clenching onto the car windows and I could feel its moist smell going through every crack in the car. I lifted myself up to open the door and look around. I remembered of the noise that woke me up and I went to look around the car to see if there was any damage. I could see the outlines of the road but I could not see where sides of the road were. It looked like the road was wide and unending - I do not remember where I pulled over and there did not seem to be any damage caused to the car. I lit up a cigarette and looked through the fog in hopes of it clearing up. I kept on feverishly looking around until I had burnt my fingers by the lit cigarette butt. I lit up yet another one and a shape of a building started emerging from the mist.
With every puff, the figure was becoming clearer and it soon appeared to be a monastery. I nearly gulped the whole cigarette in the vastness of the holy building. Strangely enough, the fog still kept its heavy covers around everything else besides that monastery and my car. It felt too strange to me and I took out my third cigarette and hopped into the car. I turned the lights on but the car would not start. The engine was coughing up on something, it felt like, and I slammed the bonnet open. The fog started creeping into the engine and every other particle the car was made of. It felt hopeless to try and fi it. I jumped inside of the car and could clearly see the road leading to that mysterious place. I had nowhere else to go, so I gathered myself and walked all the way to the door of the monastery. I broke the silence with a heavy knock.
I was greeted by a stranger in a cloak, who welcomed me inside. There were other, it seemed like, monks with him inside of the building, who welcomed me warmly and offered me a stay. I firstly politely refused their genuine offer but they insisted and asked for nothing back in return. The fog outside seemed to have grown even thicker, so I ended up staying with the friendly strangers. Their food, drinks and warm-hearted stories made me feel alive and it felt like I was re-born into a new myself - it felt great to be back in touch with someone else, someone new. And so the day passed and the spirit of the drinks and food started wearing off. I found myself yet again crawling to a soft spot, somewhere where I could put my head on and fall into the realm of dreams.
I was going through a dark open corridor towards some door. It felt that home was near the closer that I was to the door. Deep and welcoming sound was echoing against the cold, shadowy walls. I reached for the handle and slowly opened the door only to find a way to yet another, similarly looking corridor. The air grew warmer and that sound was growing louder. I wanted to hear that sound better and understand what it meant, so I blindly continued walking onto the next door. I pushed another door open and found myself in a smaller, less familiar corridor. I stepped into it and the sound was clearer, smell more attracting and somewhat lustful. The other door looked more colourful and was embellished with ancient runes and gemstones. I felt drawn to it and could feel my head starting to spin in finite circles but I kept on walking forward. I reached the path to the third door, already drunk from its beauty and the noise that felt yet closer than ever before. My hand felt the sensation of pulling the handle and the blood started streaming through my lower part of the body - my head started spinning more in a euphony of the mysterious levels of the corridors. I walked into a red-lit room, glimmering with gold and the silver of the night from the open windows. It was right there, the sound, it was coming towards me, right behind the magnificently old door, right in front of me. So close it was. I paced forward and put clutched the handle. I was anticipating to see who was making that charming noise and what it meant but the growing feeling of lust was overcoming me. I collected myself together and pressed the handle - it would not budge. Suddenly, my feeling of temptation was replaced by the urge and angriness. It felt so unexpected for the door to remain closed, while the rest remained opened, and the more I tried pressing the handle, the heaver I felt and the more power I was losing. Shake upon shake, knock upon the knock and I started twisting from side to side, full of rage and misunderstanding. I started shouting and slamming the door, while the voice was fading away and the room started growing darker and darker.
I was awaken by one of the monks, who found me loudly talking and pushing around while asleep. It must have been a nightmare, he thought, but I had told him all about what I had seen, the rooms I walked through, the voice that I heard and the divine feeling that I experienced. The monk remained calm and I enquired him whether any other of his visitors had experienced anything like that before. He told me that it was a common dream for strangers to have and that very few ever got to the end of the room. The monastery, it seemed, gave that dream only to the ones who remained unchallenged in their lives and sought greater wisdom and peace at heart. I asked the monk to help me see the end of the room, hear that noise and find myself. I was too worn out to continue talking, so I crushed back onto the soft cushions of my bed.
When I woke up, I was greeted to warm breakfast and festive smiles, which determined to seek greater meaning of the upcoming day while I was munching on my food empty-headed. The friendly monks told me that they had fixed my car and the fog cleared up, so I was ready to go anywhere I wanted. I inquired the monks about my dream once again and told them that I wanted to seek nothing else but the mysterious dream that I had seen. One of them shook his head and told me that I was not ready, that I was full of negative energy and could not see clearly in my own demise, that I had to become a monk, learn of their wisdom - become one of them, become at peace with myself and everyone else around me. I had been told it was going to be hard for me and that no one else had ever become one. Every challenger who ever attempted to become a monk only ended up losing their mind and seeing the same dream over and over again, unable to open the final door. I had no better journey to take a part of, so I told them that I was committed at becoming a monk and improving myself in order to find the path to inner peace and wisdom. And so, the monks had told me of the challenges that I had to go through. They told me that I had to go to the biggest of the deserts and count all of the sand grains that there were. Then, I had find the largest and brightest of the meadows and count all leaves of the grass that there were. Determined and unstoppable, I walked out of the monastery towards my car and onto my challenge.
Three years had passed and I came back to the same monastery, surrounded once again by a fog after a rainy day. The same monks had welcomed me back but could barely recognise me. They told me that I had changed, looked, felt and smelt differently. They were astonished by my changes and yet more, they were thrilled to learn of my findings. I had told them that no matter how much time I would spend counting every leaf and grain, it would never had been enough. It was a human greedy nature to find an answer to everything that ultimately would lead to no definite answer. No matter how many sand grains I would find, there would be another sand storm that would bring more and counter my result. No matter how many leaves there would be in the meadow, more would grow and more would wither. The life had never been about seeking an answer about oneself but rather living in harmony with that mystery.
The monks expressed their deep gratitude and welcomed me to stay with them in the monastery. They told me that I was ready to become a monk and seek eternal wisdom. I lost count of days as I became drunk with water and food in anticipation to become one of them and see things through the divine oracles. I had been told that I had to let the worries go and clear my head. Once I had truly become free, the door would open itself in my dream.
I was going through a dark corridor. The path was covered by a light flog that excreted an inviting and curious smell. I could sense that something different would happen in that dream as every other version of the same dream was nothing close to that. So I stepped forwards, one foot at a time, not in a hurry anywhere at all. I had all the time that could be spared. While I was approaching one of the doors, I tried not to think of what would be behind it. My focus was on the voice that was accompanied by subtle tones of instrumental music. Instead of willing to find the source of it all, I focused myself on enjoying it instead. I felt the energy consuming me and I stood before the door with my eyes closed, just listening until I had become one with it. The time became a loop and I surrendered myself to it. I was ready for something greater than myself. The door pushed itself opened and the fog invited me to step into another room. I slowly walked into in, admiring the wall paintings, the lights, the midnight glow and divine notes that I could hear yet clearer. One door followed the other and I could not make sense of when the loop would break and I did not even try. It would be pointless to fight against the illusions of the dreams and why would one - they are special and different for everyone. Further and further down the road, I got into the room that felt like none other before. I could feel it was the one and it felt that I was the one, who could dare to walk in and learn of its secrets. I slowly approached it and it opened itself ajar. The voice, the music, the celebration of life was in front of me and what I saw brought tears to my eyes. Gasping for air, with tears streaming down my cheeks, I entered the room. The warmth of the air filled my chest and I could feel its presence right there in front of me. And what I had seen was...I cannot tell you what I had seen though because you’re not a monk, you see.
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