The young meets the older. The young man idolatries the old man. He asks with affection for some advice. The elder smiles with compassion and then he looks to his dog, and with a satisfying laughter he says: “Ask it to the dog.” The fierce young man wanted to fight for his honour and for that he needed advice from the old, because he feels he is vulnerable and unable to win this battle. He didn’t need advice, he needed someone to rescue him from his madness. In fact, he needed patience to think. “How should I ask it to a dog, wouldn’t it be better to consult a horse?” He asked. “Horses can be magnificent in wars, but it is for the achieved knight; the dog will teach you how to fetch a branch.”
A good man must always take advice when he wants it, when he asks for it, not when people want to give it to him. It was his sense and prudence that made the right advice possible.
After the encounter he heads back to the shore he came from.
On the beach there are several interesting observations. One of them are the ships that cross by. Who might be inside and where are they going? The ship disappears in a fog. And again he could not board in. Now he can only imagine how it would be. Idyllic. He just sat by a tree, malcontent. Just imagining if there he would have a better life, a better perspective. How would he face the Judgement knowing he had potentially missed something so important? He can not go, his life is incomplete. It is not time to be naked yet. He is given a next chance, his life will be long and arduous, it might be painful to persist, should he just leave it behind and go? But again, it is not time to be naked yet. He is still a child counting his blessings in the dark. A comet blazes across the heavens and he makes a wish: “Give me strength to the fight – the fight between Myself and I.”
May this man have good armies, may he be a prudent military man and a leader. “The only good, sure, lasting forms of defence are those based on yourself and your own strength.” He reckons luck might decide half of what he does, but it leaves the other half, more or less, to him.
And the story keeps going like this: this young forceful man sticks his sword to the ground and by doing that he controls the thunderstorms: his thoughts and also his death. He is now royal, noble. And he not only faces the darkening of the skies but can also control it – he believes it and so he does it. He is firmly grounded, even on his fantasies, for he knows he is a creator – for good or for evil. He encounters a peasant and she is so helpless with all her swords, as if her arms were tide up and unable to move. So he gives her a major advice, for he sees her from above and can understand the whole picture without a word, so he says “Don’t wait for someone to rescue you, be your own saviour.” She kneels before him and says “Give me support”, so the noble man rises a golden glass to the skies and proclaims: “There are hundred ways to kneel and kiss the ground, may you be rejoiced to your own nature.” The woman stands up and frees herself from the ties and encounters glory in a formidable dance, the waterfalls dance along. So she raises the golden glass herself to the skies, this is divine ecstasy.
Luck was mastered and understood. In the end everything followed the rules, for nothing escapes THE rules. And when one understands that he is free from the confinement, it is a sudden breakthrough, this is divine ecstasy and at the same time it is the foundation of the solid ground of reality. But there is always something hidden in a mystic mystery. And that is the nature of divine, that is what enables forms to exist.
“God doesn’t like doing everything himself, he doesn’t want to deprive us of our free will and our share of glory.”