The Path of the Pebble

"And what is this?" asked the old man, holding up a small glass bead.

The youth paused for a long few heartbeats, thinking. "Is it a glass bead?"

"If you do not know," replied the old man, "You may simply say so."

"I know it is a glass bead," said the youth, "But I think that if I say so outright you will tell me why this is not true."

The old man shook his head. "You have focused too much on the teaching at the expense of what is taught. That is not the way of the Path."

"Yes master," replied the youth. To say more was to invite rebuke, though a thousand rebuttals lept to his tongue and died behind his teeth.

The old man sighed, and stretched out. "The lesson for today was to take a meandering path, but it seems that in my age I have gotten too predictable. Instead of my normal instruction then, which you are too clever for, I will give you the lesson outright.

"The bead is not a bead; it is a thing which shapes the world around it, as all things are. When I touch the bead, it shapes my finger to it. It shapes the light around us, which allows us to see it. The bead is not centered on our senses, it is centered in the world, and the bead affects all things around it. This is true not only for the bead, but for all things. I see you because of how you affect the light, and when I rap your knuckles with my walking stick I feel the impact of it on your flesh. You have heard the koan of the tree which falls in the forest?" The youth nodded cautiously. "Sound is the tree touching the ground and spreading the air. The gem within the koan is whether things still exist when we turn our back on them. The Path teaches that they do. A thing is defined by how it is impacted by other things, and how it in turn impacts them, for there is no other way for them to be known, just as there is no other way for us to know ourselves."

The youth frowned, opened his mouth, and then closed it again. "That was too much at once," he said slowly.

"Then go meditate for the next hour upon the far rock," replied the old man. "You are clever, and the truths that I have revealed will be understood by you in time."

The youth inwardly groaned. The far rock could only be gotten to by two leaps over the mists of the mountains, and it had no comfortable place to sit. When he had first come to the mountain seven weeks ago, expelled from his home by a father who had no use for him, his time meditating on the far rock was terrifying, full of constant terror of falling. Now, it was simply an annoyance. Today would be even more annoying, as the normally stunning vista would be ruined by heavy fog, and worse than that the fog would leave him cold and wet when it licked up past the rocks like slow, thin waves.

Half an hour later, trying to find some clever insight in the words of his master, the youth heard muffled footsteps through the fog. They were not the soft steps of his master, but harder sounds from further down the mountain, what must have been a half dozen men. In the time he'd been there, the youth had seen only two visitors come to visit his master, and both had come alone. His instinct was to leave the far rock and investigate, but that would surely earn a sharp rap of the master's walking stick.

Time passed, and the footsteps made their way up the winding mountain path. The boy sat still in the lotus position, closing his eyes and trying to breath calmy. So far the many visitors hadn't said anything to each other, but the boy had a secret hope. His father had sent him away, but there was nothing to say that his father could not call him back.

Finally the men arrived and called out to the old man, who would be sitting in the modest house, drinking his tea. Still the youth stayed in his position, willing himself to keep calm and steady like the rock beneath him, and somehow, despite his roil of emotion, he managed it. When the old man called his name though, he came running, bounding over the rocks and towards the house, where the old man stood with six men in front of him. Their colors were that of the boy's house, and the boy recognized Shai-fen, one of the house guard.

"Tan-fi, you are called back to the house," said Shai-fen.

The old master held up a hand. "I am afraid that he was given over to me for education," her replied. "The boy is certainly not educated yet, and thus he should not leave."

The house guard frowned. "On whose authority do you think we arrived? Wan-fi can send his son out for education, and Wan-fi can bring his son back." He looked to his other guards. "You cannot refuse us in this, and though we do not wish it, we will simply remove him by force."

The master nodded. His footing shifted subtly, and from within his robes he pulled a glass bead. "Do you know what this is?" he asked. "It is impact, as all things are the change they make in the world. I impact the boy, and the boy impacts me, and together we improve each other and the world. Do you maintain that the world would see positive change for the boy being removed from my care and training?"

"That is no matter either way, for my lord's will must be done, and I am an instrument of it." Again he looked to his guards. Then he looked to the boy. "Tan-fi, come with us and stop with this game."

The boy stood in the grass, which was still wet with dew. He could see his future stretching out before him. He wavered, then feeling his mind race, went through the calming exercises that he had been taught - and in doing so, made his choice.

"I will stay here," said the boy.