Member-only story
Two Travellers, Two Realities.
The mind matters
A man was trudging down a road with a pack on his back. Behind him rose a large range of snowy peaked mountains and, ahead, lay a verdant valley full of whispering trees and wild vegetation. The sun was directly above him. It was midday. So he stopped when he noticed a monk in saffron robes, sitting on the side of a road and painting a mandala.
The traveller hailed a greeting and the monk nodded in return then returned to his painting.
With a heavy sigh the traveller sagged down by the side the road, next to the monk.
‘Where have you come from?’ the monk asked him.
‘The village in the mountain. I left there this morning. I’m hoping to get to the village in the valley by nightfall.’
The monk nodded, squinting at his half finished mandala. ‘You should make it okay.’
‘Do you know the village I’m heading for?’ the traveller asked.
‘I know them both, very well. The one in the mountain and the one on the valley.’
‘Ahh,’ said the traveller. ‘Perfect! Perhaps you can enlighten me. What is the village like in the valley? What are the people like? Are they hospitable to travellers?’
