The One Who Stayed

We were boyhood friends and meditated together in a cave we had found high in the mountains. The monks allowed us this freedom, since through our meditation we filled the world with our combined light, brightening all living souls, even if just a little. We meditated from early morn to late eve, not wanting for food or water, so fully fed and warmed were we by God’s light, regardless of the snowy wintry days outside.

Whereas his light was compassionate, gentle, and kind, mine was joyful, mischievous, but we shared in common our love for an infinite God. Though we hardly spoke, our understanding of each other was beyond words, that of essence. He taught me stillness and compassion while I taught him how to smile and have fun.

He had come from a land far away to the south-west and had skin of a different brown than ours; his was more of a sun-kissed golden than brown, and his hair and eyes were also just a shade lighter than the rest of us. His native tongue was something else all together, but he understood and spoke our language as his own. How and why he had come so far no one was quite sure, but when the head of our order accepted him without hesitation, so did we all.

He was the only one as young as I at the monastery and it seemed we were always friends; indeed, I cannot recall any moment that marked the friendship’s beginning, and I remember each of our moments with complete clarity. It is both a curse and a blessing to retain such childhood memories, when one thought of eternity as the only reality, still too young to realize forever could end at the very next breath . . .

As we grew up and the roundness of our faces yielded to the more angular jaws of men, our time in the cave became less and less as our daily responsibilities grew, but we still managed to steal away every day to commune with God and illuminate the Earth with His light. Such were the rays we radiated until even Mother Nature yielded her secrets to us. The very air bent to our will and creatures great and small would approach in docility.

Our trials then came to assess our mastery of within and without, and, with an unprecedented decision, the head of our order had us take the trials together. “Your paths are one,” he explained, “and thus your trials shall be.” And so they began.

We stood before a dragon black as the starless night, but when it lunged forth I leapt up to meet it, buoyed by our light, kissing the creature on the nose. The dragon then became a golden gossamer thing, circling joyfully around us, thanking me for uncovering its true self. We then danced through the fire trial; well, I danced and skipped to his lead, occasionally stopping to warm my hands, as the flames bowed and parted before him. The final trial was a trickier one, as skipping out of the fire I also skipped over the edge of a cliff, plunging into a deep ravine. By the time I got my balance mid-fall by a cushion of sweet air, he passed me with one of his rare smiles, gently floating down. Since I could not very well let him pass me so easily, I gave chase until we managed to reach the river together. He landed with his usual grace, softly on the water’s surface, while I jumped in with a splash that got both of us. It was the first and last time I ever witnessed him laugh, musical like the crystalline waters running under our feet, joining my laughter in concert to echo the sheer fun of what should have been a harrowing set of trials. But they were not over yet.

He was walking across the river when an inexplicable sadness swept over me. Watching him I suddenly felt our paths separate as the distance of the river separated us now. I stood in the middle of the suddenly rushing current, still watching him as he stepped onto the opposite bank; he turned to look at me, not with his just laughing eyes but with eyes conveying a sadness equal to mine. In that moment we both acknowledged something far greater than these trials had been set in motion. Was it for this purpose that we took them together, that, even though being aspects of one heart, we had to break apart for reasons yet unknown?

Of course he knew, perhaps all along, that one day he would have to leave and return to his land to alone endure the suffering he ultimately suffered. My heart breaks again and again thinking how I could have allayed some of his pain, if we only went together, if he had confided in me . . . I know, I know, all came to pass as it should have, but I will always remember him looking back at me with those sad eyes that knew what lay ahead, touched with the slightest regret of its necessity as well as its inevitability; what haunts me the most was his sadness for me. With that last look, my brother, my friend, became someone else.

Though it has been said I was born laughing into the world, that day in the middle of the river I cried, and continue to cry at the unfathomable depths of his compassion, the pain of loss refreshed anew by each remembrance of that first sorrow. . .

We came out of our trials as different men, our fates our own.

The One Who Left

The time was near when the two friends would have to part, one returning to his home faraway. The air between them held a combination of sadness, anticipation, and love.

Perhaps you could come with me...

He did not want to leave, and wondered if their love was the same, though he knew it wasn’t. His friend’s answer took him by surprise.

- It’s like I was alone in a beautiful garden before we met, a garden in plain sight though no one else seemed to see it, and you were the first to enter and join me. And for that I love you in a way unique only to you, being the first Great Friend I could share this garden with.

Humbled by the heart that was so boundlessly generous and wise, he cried at the loss nonetheless, his own heart wishing for time to fast forward to the moment they could be together again...

For when that would be they could not know yet, dependent on the mercurial winds of Fortune & human whimsy. It did not matter to him whether ages would pass or a mere breath; it was still one breath too long.

Yet it was time for him to return home to fulfill the purpose he could only now fulfill. Having loved one in this way, he could now love all, seeing his friend laughing in everyone’s eyes...except he would never again see the eyes that shined the very light that made his own shine.

In his grief he wondered fleetingly if his friend would even remember their love, so blissful in his garden never to have known sorrow.

But his friend read him all too clearly, giving him thoughtful reassurance.

- Our parting will be as much a lesson for me as it is for you, for I’ve never missed anyone but I know I will miss you...

He regretted this deeply, not wanting to be the one to introduce sorrow to his one true friend, yet knowing it would inevitably follow something like their love anyway.

- I feel your absence already; please, when you do go, go quietly without my knowing...

And he did when the time came, leaving head down, not turning back once, the sound of his friend’s first cry of sadness forever ringing in his ears.