People Are The Same Everywhere
People Are The Same Everywhere
The young Scot was restless by day and felt an overwhelming emptiness at night. Something was missing in his life although he could not name it. Before doing his chores in the morning he would hike in the woods. Nature’s bounties offered some comfort. The chirping birds and scampering critters made him smile. The towering trees filled his spirit with awe and wonder for the magic and mystery of life. How such a small acorn could grow into a sapling then a mighty oak was a miracle he could not fathom. He began taking longer hikes. He was reaching out for something. What was it? Was it peace of mind and serenity of spirit? Could he find it if he roamed deeper in the forest? Might he come upon a sage or a forest hermit who could teach him?
One morning he woke up knowing that he had to take leave of his native land. He packed lightly and after bidding his family farewell, he was on his way. He wandered for days. He ate nuts and berries from the trees and bushes. For his supper he had some bread and cheese that his mother had prepared for him. There was abundant fresh water in creeks and brooks. A few days later he came upon a village. The men were bulky of chest and had thick red hair. He was greeted by the countrymen there and welcomed to stay with them. He tilled the fields with the men. He labored long and hard all day. In the evening he drank and dined with them. Then he listened to their stories and songs.
They sang of love and the way of life that they had known for many years. They sang of joy, woe, grief and pain. About broken hearts and dreams. The young Scot knew in his heart that he had heard these words before. The tunes were different; the voices new, but the meanings were the same.
One day the young Scot realized that no matter where people lived, they laughed, they cried, the labored and they loved. Why did I leave my native land? he asked. Did I truly think that I would find something new? Aside from a few different customs, people are the same everywhere. It is the spirit that animates all life. The body is the cloak for the soul. All people are similar and related no matter which land they call home.
The Young Scot decided that day it was time to cease wandering. To wander too long is to run from the self. He came to realize that peace and serenity are found within. I must listen and learn from others, he thought, but I must also listen to my heart. I must spend quiet time alone so that I may hear the voice of my soul.
The voice of the self is quiet. Its words are loving and wise. It will teach and guide us if we listen. The mind does not direct its thoughts or words. It is the voice behind the voice of the ego.
The young Scot grew wise over the years. His hair and beard grew long and snowy white. He occasionally still visited other lands. The village folks would always welcome him back with joyous celebration and feasting. Then they would gather around the fireplace and listen raptly to his tales and hear new songs he had learned. Now when the older Scot took his walks he smiled serenely as he balanced his weight on a big stick. He walked slower but he did not mind. His eyesight weakened but his inner vision grew stronger daily. The Scot had found peace. Now he was at home everywhere because he had learned long ago that people are the same everywhere.
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