How We Surrender

I have heard human relationships described as being akin to mineral fragments tumbling around together in a drum. As we bump up against each other, we remove the sharp edges from ourselves and others. The polishing process can be unsettling and even painful, but since we can't avoid it unless we establish an eremitic way of life, then we had best make our peace with it. How we surrender depends upon our temperament.

Once there were three monks who lived together in a monastery, having taken a vow of silence. After ten years of communal living, one monk arose during their breakfast and overturned his bowl, shouting, "I hate oatmeal!" No one answered. The monk cleaned up his oatmeal and they resumed their usual routines. Ten years after this, a second monk arose during breakfast and announced, "Well, I like oatmeal." Again, there was no response, and the three monks went about their ways in silence for a further ten years. Then, the third monk arose during breakfast and declared, "I'm leaving! I can't stand this constant bickering!"

Once there was a woman who lived in a very small house with a large number of children. Her children were demanding and mischievous, and she was continually exhausted from the work of caring for them. So she went to her rabbi to ask for advice. He listened to her complaints and then he asked, "Do you have any chickens?" "Yes," the woman replied. "Then, my advice is that you take the chickens from the henhouse and bring them into the house with you and the children." The woman thought this an odd recommendation, but she had confidence in the rabbi, so she did as he said. The next week she returned to see him again. "The children are no better, and now I have the hens to watch over. I never know when I might be about to step on an egg, and they are noisy and messy." "Hmm," said the rabbi. "Do you have a goat?" "Yes," answered the woman. "Then, my advice is that you move the goat from his pen into the house with you and the children and the hens." From one strange idea to another, thought the woman, but she had no other plan, so she did as he said. A week later she returned. "The children are teasing the goat, and the hens are eating all our grain, and the goat has chewed up my curtains," she told the rabbi. "Hmm," he said. "Do you have a cow?" "Yes," answered the woman. "Then, my advice is that you bring the cow into the house with you and the children and the hens and the goat." Stranger and stranger, thought the woman, but by now she was ready to try anything, so she did as he said. One week later, she pounded on the rabbi's door very early in the morning. "I am sorry to bother you, but things have become impossible," she sobbed. "The cow's milk has gone sour and the hens' eggs are all cracked, and the goat ate an entire bushel of cabbages. The children are taking advantage of the confusion. I can't hear myself think and the smells are intolerable!" "Then," said the rabbi, "I think you are ready for the next step." "And what may that be?" asked the woman irritably, for by now she was becoming dubious of the rabbi's good judgment. "Return the cow to the barn, the goat to his pen, and the hens to the henhouse," he directed. "Then come back and see me in one week." She did as he advised, so tired that she moved as one in a dream. A week later she knocked on the rabbi's door. "Come in, my dear," he invited kindly. "Tell me the news." "The children are just as unruly as ever, but it is so much easier taking care of them without the hens and the goat and the cow in the house, that I feel my life has become much easier," the woman replied. "Wonderful!" twinkled the rabbi. "And remember, when you wish to complain . . . things can always get worse!"

Once there was a parrot who lived in a golden cage inside the garden of a palace. He was the king's favorite. For a parrot, he lived a luxurious life, with a silken pillow, delicate morsels to eat, nectar to drink, and the most beautiful soft tinkling windchime hung near his cage for his special entertainment. The king would often take the parrot out of his cage to admire his beautiful plumage and his lordly posture, to stroke him and tell him secrets that no one else knew, not even the queen. But the king was very jealous of the parrot, and did not like anyone else to take him out of his cage. He had entrusted the parrot's care to a special guard who had no other duties than oversight of the parrot. The parrot never left his cage unless the king held him by a golden tether. But despite all the honors and comfort of his existence, the parrot seemed despondent. He hung his head and gazed at his feet all day, and he seemed to take no joy in the delicious food and drink provided for him. One day, the king whispered to the parrot, "I wish I knew something to make you happy." "I miss my family in the jungle," replied the parrot. "I would like to hear from them." "I will send a messenger to take them your greetings," promised the king. "The messenger will bring back news of them to you." As good as his word, the king sent a trusted courier into the jungle the very next morning. The courier took the parrot's greetings to the large flock of parrots which he found there, fluffing their feathers and stretching their wings in the midday sun. But as soon as he delivered the greetings from the palace parrot, every member of the flock fell to the ground like a rock, and they all lay there dead. Shocked, the courier returned to the palace. He tried to tell the king in confidence what he had seen, but the king gave him a hearty greeting and said, "Tell the parrot at once! He has been waiting for your return since dawn!" So the courier, in a low voice, said "When I gave your parrot's greeting to the flock, they at once all dropped down to the ground like rocks and lay there dead." The king was shocked. He looked at the parrot to see his reaction. At once, the parrot dropped down dead inside of his cage. More and more distressed, the king called for a golden pillow and a silver casket. "We will bury the parrot with all the honors of royalty," he instructed. "He has been a true and loyal friend." When the servants removed the parrot from his cage and placed him on the golden pillow inside the silver casket, the parrot spread his wings and flew to the top of the garden gate. All of a sudden, the entire flock of parrots appeared just beyond the palace walls. The king, torn between rage and sorrow at the departure of his favorite, cried out, "Why have you deceived me?" "It is my nature to be free," replied the parrot. "My family showed me the way when they dropped down as though they were dead. Now I will join them and return to my rightful home."

Surrender, in three stories. Hope you enjoyed them.