This is more of a fable or allegory than anything else, I think, so please keep an open mind while reading. It came off the top of my head one day and although it could probably use a bit of polishing, I love it to bits and pieces. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have.
THE BOY WHO SWALLOWED THE UNIVERSE
There were five of them. Arranged in a circle around the flickering flames they stared in silence, the firelight reflected in their sable eyes. Around the walls of the cave, the pictures they had painted just that morning glinted, moving as though alive as the shadows danced across the rough-hewn stone.
The music had finished – night had come. Now was the time for stories.
“Grandfather,” said the child to her elder. He was the first of the five, the teller of tales. “Tell us a story.”
Those were the words of beginning. So the Grandfather stirred by the fire and stood, his low, deep voice filling the silence of the night.
“This is the story of the Boy With No Name, the Boy Who Swallowed the Universe.” said he, and the children gathered closer to listen.
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Many moons ago, when the world was a dim place, and the People fought each other with weapons of terrible power, there was a young peasant boy from the village of Shan-lin, a boy without a name.
If there was one thing in the world that this boy wanted, it was to achieve enlightenment. For that, his Grandfather said, was the truest thing – the only thing. So the Boy-Without-A-Name lived quietly in his village for many years, until he was old enough to travel on his own. Then, he told his Grandfather of his plan and prepared to set off into the great wide world.
The Grandfather was sad to see the boy go, but he knew that the Boy-Without-A-Name must find his own path and his own destiny. So the Grandfather packed the boy’s things and gave him some food for the road and a donkey for the journey.
“Go well, son of my heart.” He said. “May you find what you seek.”
And so the boy left in search of the ultimate knowledge.
The road he traveled was a long one, for the village in which he had lived was in the mountains - great, steep mountains that he had to cross to reach any other town. But the Boy-Who-Had-No-Name was strong and young, and the donkey was fit, and together the two of them made it across the rocky range.
“I must stop here,” said the boy, when they reached the first town. “We have very little food left, and I do not wish to starve.”
So the boy and the donkey came to the market-place, using much of their gold to buy food and lodging. The next day, the Boy-Without-A-Name went to the innkeeper and asked him where he may find the village Holy-Man. The innkeeper told him that the Holy Man lived in a house by the woods, and gave him instructions to find it. So the boy went to the house of the Holy Man, and asked to be let in.
“I have ventured far to see you,” said the Boy-Without-A-Name. “Please, will you not teach me the secrets of enlightenment?”
“I have nothing to teach you,” said the Holy Man, smiling a small and secret smile. “that you could learn.”
“But surely one so holy and wise could teach me something?” protested the boy.
But the Holy Man shook his wise head and shut the door in the boy’s face. “Not I.”
The boy was disappointed. Already he had spent many coins, and still he had not found enlightenment. He was then determined to go to the next village, and seek out their Holy-Man. He would return when he was enlightened to show this village what he could do.
So the next day he set out on his donkey through the forest, and after many moons he found himself in another town, greater and more populated than all the rest.
“I will find enlightenment here,” he told the donkey, and slept well that night in the local tavern, dreaming of knowledge. The next day the boy asked the innkeeper the way to the Holy-Man’s cottage, and sure enough he was pointed there without question.
“Come,” he said to the noble beast, again. “Enlightenment awaits us.”
But when the boy knocked on the Holy-Man’s door, he was rudely turned away.
“I have traveled many roads,” he said. “I have faced many dangers. Please, won’t you teach me the secrets of enlightenment?”
“I can teach you nothing.” The Holy Man said.
“You must have many books,” exclaimed the boy, “that contain great knowledge. Please, may I see them?”
“I have no books.” said the Holy Man, and he too smiled, a small and secret smile. “Good day.”
And he, too, shut the door in the boy’s face.
The Boy-Without-A-Name was becoming angry. He climbed onto his donkey, and kicked the beast into motion. Very well. He would go to the next town, and seek the knowledge there. So together the boy and the beast set off. It was some time before they reached the third village, and when they got there he was tired and hungry.
“We must stop here.” said the Boy-With-No-Name, when they came to the bustling city. “I will see the Holy Man tomorrow.”
But the next day, when the boy found directions to the Holy Man’s house, the Holy Man would not see him.
“I have traveled, I have waited, I have dreamed,” said the Boy-Without-A-Name. “I have come to see you. Please, won’t you teach me the secrets of enlightenment?”
“No,” said the Holy Man. “I will not.”
“But you can read the stars!” cried the boy. “Surely you can show a peasant boy the secrets of enlightenment?”
“The stars tell me many things.” said the Holy Man. His smile was smaller and more secret still. “The secrets of enlightenment are not one of them.”
And once more the door was shut in the face of the boy.
Disappointed, outraged, the Boy-Who-Had-No-Name gritted his teeth and would not give up.
“I will go to the next village,” said he. “And see their Holy Man. Surely they cannot all turn me away.”
He set off with the dawn, his dwindling supplies tied as ever to the donkey’s back. The little beast trotted faithfully on, and after many hardships they at last came to the fourth village, still greater than those before.
”I will rest at this inn for the night,” decided the boy. “And tomorrow I will achieve enlightenment.”
The next morning the boy went to the baker across the street, and asked him the way to the Holy Man. He was told that the Holy Man lived in a house by the river, and given a free crust of bread to take with him. The boy was delighted by this – for what baker gave away his bread without good reason and a good heart? And what good heart was not inspired by enlightenment? He followed the baker’s directions without trouble, and got off his donkey as he came to the cottage, knocking on the wise man's door.
“I have been turned away three times,” said he. “But still I come here, questing. Will you not teach me the secrets of enlightenment?”
“Nay,” said the Holy Man. “Not I.”
“But surely,” pleaded the Boy-Without-A-Name. “You who watch the clouds and hear the voices in the trees must be able to help me.”
“The clouds are only clouds.” said the Holy Man, smiling secretly. “And the trees are only trees. They cannot help you, and nor will I.”
Once more, the door shut, and the boy was left on the doorstep, feeling like a fool.
“I will ride to one more village,” said the Boy-Without-A-Name. “And if their Holy Man won’t help me, I will go home.”
And so the boy and the donkey rode still further, their supplies all but gone, until they reached the fifth and biggest town. This time, the boy bypassed the inn altogether, and went straight to the Holy Man.
“I am at the end of my strength,” said the boy to the sage. “I have traveled many roads, I have crossed many fields, and still I have not been answered. You are my last hope. Please, will you teach me the secrets of enlightenment?”
The Holy Man took pity on the boy, who looked tired and worn.
“Eat,” he said, giving the boy a crust of bread and some soup. “Drink. Sleep off your cares this night, and we will speak again in the morning.”
So they boy ate and drank and slept, satisfied that at last his questions would be answered. In the morning, he rose and dressed, and over breakfast he asked the Holy Man again.
“Please, will you teach me the secrets of enlightenment?”
“I will not,” said the Holy Man gently. “Not I.”
“But you said we would speak again!” cried the boy, horrified and betrayed. “You promised you would teach me!”
“I said no such thing.” said the Holy Man.
“But surely, you, my last hope, tamer of fire and water, earth and wind, surely you can help me?”
“I have fed you, and allowed you to sleep. I can do no more,” said the Holy Man, with a small and secret smile. “For while the air and the water, the earth and the flame obey my hand, they do not tell me their secrets.”
“Very well.” said the Boy-Without-A-Name. “Thank you for your hospitality. I will impose no more.”
And so the boy and the donkey left the fifth Holy Man, refusing his offers of food and drink for their journey home. With his mouth set and his chin held high, the boy set off for the village of Shan-lin – but still he had not found enlightenment.
Over many moons, the boy and beast traveled. Through forest, through river and lake and over mountain, until at last they reached their home. When the boy dismounted, starving and cold, he knocked on the door of his Grandfather, just like he had those of the Holy Men, so many months ago.
“Grandfather,” said the boy, when he opened the door. “I have come home.”
“Greetings, son of my heart!” cried the Grandfather, overjoyed. “Come, eat – drink. You are tired and cold and you must certainly be hungry.”
Wrapped in a warm blanket by the fireside, the Boy-Without-A-Name was plied with soup and hot drinks, and as he ate and drank his Grandfather asked him how the journey had gone.
“It was long and arduous.” said the boy. ”But the donkey you gave me served me well.”
“No, boy!” the Grandfather said. “Tell me of your travels, of what you have learned! What knowledge have you gained?”
“I have gained nothing.” The boy told him. “I know no more than I did before.”
“But surely you must have learned something.” His Grandfather shook his head. “Tell me everything.”
And so the boy told him everything. He told him of the first Holy Man, who could not teach him, of the second Holy Man, who had no books, and the third Holy Man, who could not read the stars. The fourth Holy Man, whose clouds were only clouds, and whose trees did not whisper, and the fifth Holy Man, who had fed him but told him nothing, concluded his sad tale.
“Why did you not go to the Holy Man of Shan-lin?” asked his Grandfather.
“I did not know there was one,” replied the boy. “Who is he?”
“I am he,” answered the Grandfather.
“Then why did you not teach me?!” his grandson exclaimed.
“Because you did not ask.”
The boy turned to his Grandfather, then, and said:
“I have traveled many leagues, faced many dangers, only to be turned away without knowledge. Will you not teach me the secrets of enlightenment, Grandfather?”
“Ah, son of my heart,” said the Grandfather, taking the boy in his arms as he had when he was a small child. “Do you not see the secrets you have already learned?”
“No, Grandfather.” said the Boy-With-No-Name, bewildered. “What have I learned?”
“You have learned that enlightenment cannot be taught, my son.” He said. “It is not something to be found in books or written in the stars, nor found in clouds or trees. Even the elements do not teach us enlightenment. And do you know why that is?”
“No, Grandfather.” said the boy, with wonder in his eyes. “Why?”
“Because true enlightenment comes from within.”
And the boy’s eyes widened. “Truly, Grandfather?”
“Truly, son of my heart.”
“Then how can I find it?” He asked.
His Grandfather smiled a small and secret smile. “You do not need to find it.”
“But I am not enlightened!” insisted the boy. “So I must find enlightenment!”
“Ah, son of my heart,” said the Grandfather. “Let me tell you a secret...”
The boy leaned forward to hear as his Grandfather’s voice dropped to a whisper.
”You have swallowed the universe.” said he.
The Boy-With-No-Name drew away.
“That is silly, Grandfather.” He said. “I have not. The universe is far too big, and I am far too small. To swallow the universe would mean I was bigger than the universe, but I am just like any other boy.”
“No, no, my son.” said he. He tapped the boy’s chest with one finger. “The universe is in here. Do not look outwards for the fulfillment of your dreams – you will not find it. How can you, when all you need is what lies within? It is yourself you have been seeking all along.”
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There was silence once again as the Grandfather finished his tale. The child climbed up on his knee, her dark hair glowing, and as she looked up into his face, he saw the universe in her eyes. Even as he watched, the light of stars was kindled in the hair and beards of the others who stood around the fire and the flames themselves became transparent, holding galaxies within.
“Thank you, Grandfather.” He whispered to himself, and smiled a small and secret smile. “I understand now.”
Thanks again for the input,
