BULLOCK: THE THOUGHT OF CHANGE

 

Two bullocks yoked together

Photo credit: Ana Cernivec

 

A bullock trudged along a dusty path, which harbored the occasional sharp stone just where he least suspected it.  The stiff wooden yoke was positioned just so that he could not look easily from side to side, and though he must necessarily look then to the front, the cruel engineering of the yoke decreed that he could not raise his line of sight enough to see the path ahead. Added to that, his burden weighed heavily, occasionally shifting uncomfortably.  The bullock had no control over any of this, and there seemed nothing to look forward to.

 

From where did his next thought come?  Surely not from the recesses of his previous thought patterns, which, like a factory, could churn out only more of the same. It alit suddenly, like a butterfly from a far off place. Who knows whence it came? Perhaps it was wished on him from some long-dead person’s prayer, or was the winged remnant of some past good deed, now finding form.

 

A brown and orange butterfly perched on a bright orange flower

Photo credit: Yuichi Kageyama

 

The thought: there is another way.  It did no more than fly into his thought patterns and let itself be recognized.  There is another way. It occupied his thought pattern for an entire heartbeat. It was enough.

 

I throw off all restrictions now

 

There was then seen a glimpse of green off to one side. As he allowed his eyes to stray there, he no more noticed the yoke. It let go its hold like releasing hands; without missing a beat his footsteps swerved straightly towards the green. Then his burden fell off, melted away, and was no more, as before him a vista opened itself.

 

A peaceful river, flowing quietly around white rocks, and shaded by large trees

 

Below the path and spreading out into a far infinity of soaring mountains, there lay a green and grassy meadow. There was a stream, a pool, and a fountain of sparkling fresh water. Grass grew sweet and long.

Everything I want is here, he realized.  I can stay here forever.  The air smelled of flowers, animals, and earth. Trees gave shade.

He ate and drank unhurriedly. There would always be plenty and abundance; what need to hurry? He lay down under a tree.  He sank into thankfulness and peace.

 

The thought of change is change

 

An inviting, winding gravel path through a meadow of wildflowers

 

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