Running - Short Story

 “Ah, this longing, this search, will never leave you,” she said.

  “I don’t know if that is a blessing or a curse,” she replied.

  “I guess that depends on how you view it…”

Sitting in her friend’s kitchen, looking out at the garden, watching the weather turn to an English grey, she played with the grey in her own hair.

  “I thought that once we left the ashram it would stop, that I would find peace and stability.”

Her friend laughed, “Oh honey, once we left the ashram, the adventure began. I mean, look at us… Between us, have we been able to stay put for long?”

She was right. Stability eluded at us at every step, it wasn’t a path for either of us… He made sure of that. He made sure we understood that there is only one goal for us, whether we wanted it or not. The seed was planted and come what may it was trying to break out, to branch and grow. He had made us so that we grow from even the muddiest pond or river and, no matter what the condition of the water, we regulate our own temperature.

  “But it’s been so long since I was there – surely I can move on from that time in my life?’ I asked.

  “Honey, it will never leave you, you are like a lotus and can revive even after stagnation,” she said. “What else is there for you except enlightenment? Everything else is a mere stepping stone and nothing else will satisfy you… You are not a child of the masses, willing to imbibe the nonsense along the way. You knew, have always known, there is only one goal. You knew, and have always known, that every step is only towards that goal. You have been given the tools, and now you are being banged into shape so you start to use them.”

  “Oh but I want to find pleasure in the every day, I don’t want to do this. It all seems so hard.”

  “Have you not tried finding pleasure in the every day? What did you find? Anything?” she asked.

  “I found fleeting moments,” she said.

  “And where are they now?” she replied.

  “They’re gone," she said. "They’ve all gone. And now… Now I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

  “Honey, they are only crumbs. How long will you keep running? When will you become tired? Don’t you want the big feast? Don’t you want bliss? Don’t you want to recognise what is within you?”

  “But I am so tired,” she said, her head momentarily dropping down and reaching the table, the coolness of the wood touching her skin.

  “So would I be if I ran as much as you do,” she said. “Come on girl, let go of your nonsense, start now.”




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