The Birth of a Myth IV

- you are still drunk; go back, return when sober.

Only seconds after hearing the voice he could not tell what it had sounded like.
-'Had he moved his lips?' He thought to himself.
Just as one who has recently awoken and who feels the dream slipping away, the yogi strained his ears in search of an echo which would prove to him that his guru had spoken. He strained in vain.

The hard-working yogi looked at his guru, who was sitting on the verge of that green abyss, overlooking the tempest which was forming at the far end of the canyon, and felt himself noticing details he had not noticed before.

He saw the individual pieces of bark clinging to his guru`s lacking-in-attention, yet healty, hair.
He noticed that drop of dew balancing to the end of one of those seemingly-timeless strands of hair. It must have grown there overnight-he thought to himself- and has been patiently waiting for him to move so it can fall to the ground, be absorbed by the earth, and begin its path to that great river which flowed deep inside the mountain.

Just like the drop which is looking towards the ground, yearning to fall just to start its decade-long path to the river, he too would patiently follow his path. He would allow Life to be his gravity, he would not fight against his direction, and would, with infinite patience, continue his walk.

A final thought on how many misguided people there were crossed his mind. Dew drops have no choice but to be guided by Nature whereas most humans have no yet managed to feel Nature. He felt priviledged to have found it and he felt how close he had just come to loosing it- because of impatience.
Overjoyed and eternally grateful: how his guru`s presence could bring such enlightened thoughts! He placed his knees on the dirt, then his hands, stretched his legs, chest, arms and forehead on the ground symbolizing his renunciation. His renunciation from his fight.

-I will no longer fight against Life or my guru who helps me discern between Life`s will and mine.