A dear friend now lives in
U.A.E. ,so I
haven't seen her in a couple years. Yet here she came walking through my backyard and into my house a few nights ago, with another friend (each of us has been a student of Adnan Sarhan, Sufi master from Bagdad.Steve for decades, I a few years, Leilas for weeks.) We were telling funny stories of our own, a lizard in the bath room, a horse in the orchard, then
slipt into
the stories we just carry from one lover to another .
A student was walking on the outskirts of town, and came upon his teacher riding a horse. They strolled along talking. The teacher began to spur the horse, and the student had to run to keep up."Look at me. Concentrate on what I am asking you" said the teacher. The student ran, and had to use all his attention to answer the questions, listen and barely keep up. Faster they went, still faster, still harder. Abruptly they stopped. He looked back over the great distance they had covered through a thorn field, but had not one scratch on him.
The water carrier for a village was a woman, who took a large yolk with two large clay pots everyday to the river and back . One of the
vessels, on the right, had a flaw and lost 1/2 the water each time. It felt terrible about this and after many months said to the woman, "I really want to
apologize for not being a perfect vessel. I wish I could carry my share."
The woman replied,"Look at the ground. The left side of the road is lifeless, just dirt. But the right side is lush and green and full of flowers . I knew this all along."