More story endings for “The Boy without a Name.”
Jabez Martin wrote:
Boy: but, I am not like most humans, Magpie. I live by myself and, if I could, I would fly free – like yourself. I live off of berries, greens and roots; and, drink the cool clean water of the streams – like you. I am not a meat eater. So, I will not kill you for food.
Magpie: I see you are a Boy who thinks I should take time to talk with you and believe you at your word. Tell me why I should trust the words you speak.
Boy: Magpie, I only want to learn why and how the snowmountain can be so compassionate, allowing us to use him~feeding off his body, and remain untouched by the changing seasons.
Magpie: Boy, you expect to learn the why and the how of snowmountain by simple questions. Do you even know how many seasons snowmountain has existed? Can you imagine all that has passed before you – taking shelter in the caves and trees, harvesting the berries, nuts and roots, listening to the quiet of the forest and marveling at how the clouds circles the top of snowmountain as if cushioning the top from entry into the crown of existence? And, you say you want to learn the why and how of compassion. You have yet to tell me why I should trust you, let alone what qualifies you to even ask such questions.
Boy: Magpie, you should trust me because as I look into your eyes you can see my intent is honest. And, as far as qualifying myself for receiving such teachings, I have spent this time on earth in aloneness, never being a part of the mainstream crowd nor yearning for
the silver coins they seek. I know that I have only had a few seasons; but, I have spent these seasons in alone time observing humans and nature; but, most of all, seeking truth.
I know that you are wise and in your flights you observe the happenings from higher level so you see and know much more than I. When you are high in the sky you can see far distances and, I believe, you know why snowmountain can be so compassionate and kind; and, how snowmountain can continue to be throughout the seasons.
Magpie: Listen closely, Boy. Compassion comes from being grounded and experiencing season after season, knowing that it takes real strength to be gentle and real gentleness to be strong. And, to continue to be so throughout the seasons comes from knowing it is the right thing to do for himself thus drawing the strength to be who he is. Go about your way, Boy and experience.
Boy: But…
Magpie (as he flys away): remember to stay grounded.
Pamela Kaur wrote:
"I haven't time to waste on chattering with you," said the magpie, "I'm busy looking for food. And in any case you humans are usually full of trickery and you might be planning to kill me....”
I know you have no reason to trust me - but, I'm not planning to kill you or to trick you. I'm new to the area and just wanted to ask a question. I promise not to take up too much of your time.
Well, okay - I can't promise to answer it - but what is your question?
I spent the whole morning looking at the mountain, but it's impossible to understand it all. Sometimes he seems to be smiling in the brilliant sunlight, and sometimes he stands solemn and aloof while snow storms rage around him. Occasionally he shows himself in all simplicity, without adornments, and at times like those, one sees him directly and feels very close to him. His stillness and dignity are always there and remain untouched by the changing seasons. The days and months of the year don't appear to affect him. This mountain seems to have a kind and compassionate nature, as he allows all kinds of birds and animals to live on him and to feed off his body. But I felt I should know more about him....
What more do you need to know? Is it really necessary to understand? He is what you perceive him to be. To you, he has grace; he is kind, compassionate, and giving to all who come his way. What more do you need to know? Does it matter who he is, or what others perceive him to be?
Paulette Callen wrote:
I understood his fear. I had seen grown-ups do many bad things to animals. I said, “I don’t want to kill you. I want to learn about the mountain. Can you help me?”
The magpie eyed me with his clear and brilliant gaze. I waited.
Then he said, “Ask the mountain.” And he flew away.
This wasn’t the advice I had expected, but I considered it and decided it was as good as any, so I sat and gazed at the mountain again, as I had been doing, only this time I tried to see with the clear and brilliant gaze of the magpie. I am sure that grown-ups had given this mountain a name, as they like to do with everything else, and I was very glad not to know it. It would only have come between the mountain and me. Without knowing what other people called the mountain, I could see it as it really is and perhaps learn its real name. As I was waiting to learn my own.
As I said, it is my way to stay no more than 10 days in one place. I had spent 10 days with the mountain and it was my time to move on. I stood and bowed deeply to the mountain, thanking him for his teaching, and continued my journey.
Madeline Schreiber wrote:
THE BOY ... part 3
Day two of my journey, and the days to come held incredible surprises for me. Creatures, people and circumstances began to gather around me whether I was on my way or just resting somewhere. I glanced at them all but this was the stuff of grown-ups, and since I did not have a name I did not need to participate. But I wondered at all the busyness and I learned how to feel sad; not the same dark sorrow of the grown-ups, but I felt a longing to show them the specialties along the way, and to listen with someone to the songs of birds and wind.
I made friends with my sadness, and hand in hand we sat down. We remembered our majestic snow mountain together. Somehow, that day I knew that my journey was complete; my sadness and I need never move again. We were still. To this day I don't quite know why our stillness drew so much activity to us. People took up settling on our slopes; grains and flowers blossomed; wars were fought; love was born and died. I am so grateful to my tibetan snow mountain and my sadness. Even though I still have never moved I have seen many sunrises and sunsets. And to be sure I have heard laughter as well as crying. If I have ever had a name I have forgotten it now.
Snowy peak to awaken splendor
Broad expanse of shoulders
draped with arms of friends
Caves for yogis in earth's granite bedrock
Snow mountain, you are all I ever knew
And finally, Jacqueline Gens wrote this:
Part III How the Mountain Became the Boy’s Home
Slowly, I continued on my journey to nowhere around the great mountain, now my only companion, whose changing face continued to intrigue me with its mystery. Wherever I stood, the great mountain seemed a multiplicity of presence with its moods changing moment by moment. Was it the mountain that changed or me? I needed to know more.
One day I came upon a Ki kee bird*
“Tashi delly”, I said.
“Tashi delly” the Ki kee said hurriedly.
"I wonder if you’d be very kind,"” said I, "and answer some questions for me.”
“What do I know, I’m just a silly bird running this way and that looking for my mate.”
“Ki kee Ki kee Ki kee,” the little bird chirped, “Stop bothering me!”
Although many beings passed near to the mountain, none seemed to regard its majesty. Just me. How sad, I thought.
My life continued for quite a few jolly years, I don’t even know for how long. There were so many things to experience as I circumambulated the base of the great mountain. Beings came and went like the seasons and always it was just the mountain and me together wordlessly braving the elements, sometimes harsh, sometimes lovely to bask in. I was never bored for I noticed everything.
One day, I came across a ferocious looking she-dog flea bitten with swollen teats hanging to the ground and wild yellow eyes. Although I doubted she would know much about the mountain since her sufferings might have distracted her perceptions, before I could say, “Tashi Delly”, the old she-bitch, herself said,
“Tashi Delly,” her canine mouth smiling widely. “Well, sonny boy, I ‘ve been waiting for you a long
time. What took you so long?”
Speechless, I could barely say, “Me?” in a tiny voice.
“But I’m the boy with out a name who lives alone. Why would you be waiting for me?” Thinking she might attack me, I stepped back a bit.
But then the she-dog stood on hind legs and sang this melodious song in a sweet voice.
Boy, you think you are happy here in this valley in the shadow of the great one.
It’s time you grow up and climb this peak.
There you will behold the majesty of all the worlds
beyond even your imagination.
There you will truly enter the company of gods
for you have a destiny to fulfill
Your days of playing with sticks and stones are long past.
Lolling in the summer grasses is mere child’s play.
Become the man that you are destined!
Go find your name.
Then, she vanished.
Everyday, I contemplated the old mother-dog’s words, as my heart was sore with longing to understand more. Was I going to circle the mountain my whole life or climb this Peak? Had the mountain indeed become my home? If I had a home, then maybe I had a name too, although I didn’t particularly need to have a name. Why did I need a destiny if I was perfectly happy alone and without a name? I wanted to stay a child forever instead of passing my time in useless and trivial grownup concerns.
Hadn’t the mountain** already taught me so much—From a distance, I perceived its greatness; moving around it, I experienced it’s myriad moods about the nature of change. The mountain became for me a living breathing entity alive with all the elements. The mountain was my only friend.
Part IV How the Boy Got a Name
Since I was no longer interested in the stupid pursuits of humans dwelling among the dusty plains always in search of food, wealth, and worldly distraction, there wasn’t much for me to do except wonder even more about the mountain.
One day at the peak of my longing, I just began to climb my old friend the mountain—just like that. Every day, the mountain offered me its bounty of sweet smelling grasses and alpine flowers, medicinal herbs for sustenance. Now, I really was alone since I could no longer see my mountain and I was truly happy. With each step, I neared the summit, which was now beyond my view and sheathed in misty clouds. I had become the mountain. Was this destiny the old she- dog sang of—to become inseparable from the mountain?
On my ascent many marvelous animals crossed my path. In the deep forests, tigers roamed with ease,
moving purposefully with keen senses. Further up the mountain, the elusive snow lion frolicked playfully among the snow peaked ridges in the crisp air and dazzling sunlight. Inwardly, I leapt with the joy of fearlessness in meeting these creatures far from the dominion of men. As I approached the high summit, giant garudas circled overhead, their huge wings spanning continents and I was filled with awe. After many days, I reached the summit. I don’t even know how I did it since there was no longer any path to follow, neither foothold nor places to grab on to. Inch by inch, I slowly made my way sometimes resting my mind on the bare rock until the mountain presented itself to me or other times, gazing at the great expanse before me until my body and mind moved in perfect unison.
When I reached the summit—to the west, I saw glorious sunsets; to the east, I saw the sun’s first rays; in the north, I saw legions of storm gathering clouds swirling furiously; to the south, breaking through the mist, I saw numerous villages and towns,
Above me space was filled with the dragon clouds.
How wondrous, I thought. I felt that I could do anything, even fly!
After some time, seeing the villages below through the parted mist stirred in me a deep sadness that the people below did not know what I knew. Then, I understood my destiny. I had to join the company of grown-ups down below and tell them of my journey-- how they too could become one with the mountain. That was how my journey began and so I needed a name for the others to call me. There at the peak of glorious Meru, I heard the sound of my name-through the wind…Oceans….Oceans..Oceans..Oceans.. Oceans…of dharma. That’s how I got my name.
Jacqueline Gens
Brattleboro, VT
12.26.07 & 1.1.08
* Sorry, folks I made the name of this bird up based on recollection that there is a Tibetan “two note” bird.
**To see the greatness of a mountain, one must keep one's distance; to understand its form, one must move around it; to experience its moods, one must see it at sunrise and sunset, at noon, and at midnight, in sun and in rain, in snow and in storm, in summer and in winter and in all the other seasons. He who can see the mountain like this comes near to the life of the mountain, a life that is as intense and varied as that of a human being. Lama Govinda (48K) Mountains grow and decay, they breathe and pulsate with life. They attract and collect invisible energies from their surroundings: the forces of the air, of the water, of electricity and magnetism; they create winds, clouds, thunderstorms, rains waterfalls, and rivers They fill their surroundings with active life and give shelter and food to innumerable beings. Such is the greatness of mighty mountains....
In the dust-filled valleys and low plains of our daily existence we have forgotten our connections with stars and suns; and therefore we need the presence of these mighty signposts and milestones to shake us up and arouse us from the slumber of self-complacency. Not many are there who hear the call or feel the urge to rise from under their thick blanket of petty self-interests, of money-making or pleasure-hunting, but the few whom the call has reached, and in whom the longing for greater things is still awake, form a steady stream of pilgrims who keep alive the traditions and knowledge of these sources of inspiration.
The Way of the White Clouds, Lama Govinda,
Hutchinson, 1966
