Traveller & Monk

Change Your Mind: And Keep the Change - Steve Andreas & Connirae Andreas (1987) Real People Press

One day a traveler was walking along a road on his journey from one village to another. As he walked he noticed a monk tilling the ground in the fields beside the road. The monk said “Good day” to the traveler and the traveler nodded to the monk.
The traveler then turned to the monk and said, “Excuse me, do you mind if I ask you a question?”
“Not at all,” replied the monk.
“I am traveling from the village in the mountains to the village in the valley and I was wondering if you knew what it is like in the village in the valley?”
“Tell me,” said the monk. “What was your experience of the village in the mountains?”
“Dreadful,” replied the traveler. “To be honest I am glad to be away from there. I found the people most unwelcoming. When I first arrived I was greeted coldly. I was never made to feel a part of the village no matter how hard I tried. The villagers keep very much to themselves; they don’t take kindly to strangers. So tell me, what can I expect in the village in the valley?”
“I’m sorry to tell you,” said the monk, “but I think your experience will be much the same there.” The traveler hung his head despondently and walked on.
A few months later another traveler was journeying down the same road and he also came upon the monk.
“Good day,” said the traveler.
“Good day,” said the monk.
“How are you?” asked the traveler.
“I’m well,” replied the monk. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to the village in the valley,” replied the traveler.
“Do you know what it is like?”
“I do,” replied the monk. “But first, tell me, where have you come from?”
“I’ve come from the village in the mountains.”
“And how was that?”
“It was a wonderful experience. I would have stayed if I could but I am committed to traveling on. I felt as though I were a member of the family in the village. The elders gave me much advice, the children laughed and joked with me, and the people generally were kind and generous. I am sad to have left there. It will always hold special memories for me. And what of the village in the valley?” he asked again.
“I think you will find it much the same,” replied the monk.
“Good day to you.”
“Good day and thank you,” replied the traveler, smiled, and journeyed on.

The Prince and the Magician

Once upon a time there was a young prince who believed in all things but three. He did not believe in princesses, he did not believe in islands, he did not believe in God. His father, the king, told him that such things did not exist. As there were no princesses or islands in his father’s domains, and no sign of God, the prince believed his father.

But then, one day, the prince ran away from his palace and came to the next land. There, to his astonishment, from every coast he saw islands, and on these islands, strange and troubling, creatures whom he dared not name. As he was searching for a boat, a man in full evening dress approached him along the shore.

 

“Are those real islands?” asked the young prince.

“Of course they are real islands,” said the man in evening dress.

“And those strange and troubling creatures?”

“They are all genuine and authentic princesses.”

“Then God must also exist!” cried the prince.

“I am God,” replied the man in evening dress, with a bow. The young prince returned home as quickly as he could.

“So, you are back,” said his father, the king.

“I have seen islands, I have seen princesses, I have seen God,” said the prince reproachfully.

The king was unmoved.

“Neither real islands, nor real princesses, nor a real God exist.”

“I saw them!”

“Tell me how God was dressed.” .

“God was in full evening dress.”

“Were the sleeves of his coat rolled back?”

The prince remembered that they had been. The king smiled.

“That is the uniform of a magician. You have been deceived.”

At this, the pkince returned to the next land and went to the

same shore, where once again he came upon the man in full evening dress.

“My father, the king, has told me who you are,” said the prince indignantly. “You deceived me last time, but not again. Now I know that those are not real islands and real princesses,

because you are a magician.”

 

The man on the shore smiled.

“It is you who are deceived, my boy. In your father’s kingdom, there are many islands and many princesses. But you are under your father’s spell, so you cannot see them.”

The prince pensively returned home. When he saw his father, he looked him in the eye.

“Father, is it true that you are not a real king, but only a magician?”

The king smiled and rolled back his sleeves.

“Yes, my son, I’m only a magician.”

“Then the man on the other shore was God.”

“The man on the other shore was another magician.”

“I must know the truth, the truth beyond magic.”

“There is no truth beyond magic,” said the king.

The prince was full of sadness. He said, “I will kill myself.”

The king by magic caused death to appear. Death stood in the door and beckoned to the prince. The prince shuddered. He remembered the beautiful but unreal islands and the unreal but beautiful princesses.

“Very well,” he said, “I can bear it.”

“You see, my son,” said the king, “you, too, now begin to be a magician.”

 Reprinted from The Magus, by John Fowles, Dell Publishing Co., Inc.; pp. 499-500