Deeply hidden in the mountains, away from the rest of the world there once was a place unlike any other. On the surface, it looked like any old mountain with a river running paradise-like valley village at the foot of it. The kind that you might see on the hastily scribbled postcards that you receive from your backpacking friends.
A place like any other if it weren’t for one unique inhabitant who lived all by himself on top of the mountain. He was believed to be the spirit of the mountain itself. All he did was meditate to let all the elements of nature speak to him. The wind that stroked the grass, the flowers that whispered, and the insects buzzing. He took everything in until a pearl of deep wisdom would arise that he then send down the stream so the villagers in the valley along with their crops and trees could hear it.
The people waited all day, every day for his words to come down the stream and they always filled their hearts with peace and serenity. The nature around them flourishing under the kind and gentle words.
This didn’t sit well with some of the inhabitants of the village. There are always the people who want more than peace of mind and harmony and so it was with the mayor of the village and his friends. Where most people saw beautiful trees, he saw the potential to build majestic palaces and statues in his honor. The problem was that he would get no people to build all those things for him.
“Why would they bother to build things for me when they just walk around with peace in their hearts all the time,’’ he complained to one of his friends.
“Well, it seems they are happy to listen to whatever the wise man from up the mountain tells them. Perhaps you should convince him to tell them the things you want them to do.’’
Now, we have all seen enough movies to know that convincing doesn’t mean having a friendly conversation over a few beers when it comes to power-hungry leaders. The old man refused many times but after they had burned down his house, destroyed his flower fields, and threatened to kill his cats and goats, the wise old man had no choice but to send their messages down the stream.
And so it happened that from that day on the people received messages like:
“Build a castle. Build a statue. Worship your mayor, he knows what’s best for you.’’
The villages happily did what they were told. They had no reason to distrust the voice coming down the stream since it had always brought them nothing but peace of mind and overall good feelings.
After a while something terrible started to happen though. The stream turned brown. Brown of the ugliest shade imaginable. You know, the type you get when you ate the wrong kind of food… Yes, that kind of brown!
The brown water no longer brought the words that whispered gently to the roots of the trees and flowers. In fact, it killed them entirely until they all became withered and leafless. Nothing left to be moved by gentle winds.
The people who were now without comforting words or beautiful nature were quick to rebel against the mayor and his friends. They begged for the old man on top of the mountain to send them kind words again that would bring peace to their hearts and the flourishing of all the trees and flowers.
The problem was that the old man simply couldn’t. During his meditation, he had always relied on the whispers of the insects, the breeze of the wind through the leaves, and the scent of the flowers to bring him his thoughts, but they had died along with everything else.
One day, as he was trying again to catch a thought that would enlighten him, he shook his head, stood up, and got to work. He planted many seeds to grow new trees and flowers. He walked great distances to get water for them and he worked the dry dirt every day.
The people looked up and saw this. Reluctantly they started to do the same. Tree by tree, flower by flower, and field by field. It took them a while, that’s true, but eventually, the inner peace returned into their hearts.