Monday, 25 January 2010

The gardener (a story).

There once lived an young man with thoughts and aspirations beyond his means, he worked long and hard tending a rich mans garden always begrudging his lowly position and striving for greater status.
It came about one hot day that he looked up to see the owner lounging in the summer house, sipping iced drinks and chatting to friends, the young gardener felt truly dispondent at this.
"Why can he relax all day enjoying the garden whilst I'm the one who has to put all the work in? I wish I was a rich man."
No sooner had he though this that he found himself there in the summer house, with the drinks and friends laughing along with him. Imagine his delight as he settles into his new role and staus, now he can be the one to tell the gardeners what to do and simply sit back and let the world pass by, however before even a week had passed niggling thoughts started to appear again. One day as he sat admiring his estate he reads of the new palace garden being opened up and the magnificience of its floral displays.
"Ah, if only I was king" he thought "how wonderful and great would I be then."
Once again he suddenly finds himself there in the palace gardens, resting on a lounger whilst servants carry him around. King of all he surveyed and everyone answering to him, surely there could be no greater status then this? Sadly, once again those thoughts start to appear in his mind. There's still work he has to do, still people to discuss with and at the back of his head there's a thought of something greater than him. It comes about one day while strolling in the gardens with his advisor that he looks up to the sky shielding his eyes from the sun. Ah to be the sun throwing light and warmth on the earth, surely nothing could be greater and more powerful; and there his is, up in the sky and great ball of fire.
"How great am I?" he shouts "Now everyone is below me and nothing can surpass me."
So he goes about shining down for a summer heatwave like no other until he can be sure that everyone knows of his greatness. Till one day he looks down and can no longer see the earth.
"Who dares get in my way?"
For down below the clouds are casting their shadow on the ground, watering the plants and cooling the summer heat. To be as powerful as a cloud, blocking sunlight and controlling who has water and who doesn't, that must be the greatest role. And so once more he finds himself down by the earth, a great rolling cloud system casting his shadow upon those below him. Yet still it's not enough, for he can feel himself being moved where he doesn't want to go, herded like a simple sheep, for there is the wind blowing him this way and that.
"I must be the wind!" he says
What a wind he is, rattling window panes, blowing over trees and causing people to run for cover.
"Look at me!" he roars "none can stand in my way, all are moved by my presence"
Well maybe not all for as much as he blows and disturbs the surface below, the Earth continues to go her own merry way, turning at the same speed and refusing to be effected by him.
"Of course, the Earth. For nothing is greater that the Earth. It gives food and shelter where it pleases, yes I must be the Earth"
So he finds himself turning slowly as the very living planet, he can feel seasons passing, plants growing and at his core a great molten churning mass of power. Could this be contentment, is this what he's been seeking all these years? No; for somewhere he can feel himself be manipulated and changed.
"Who could possibly be strong enough to effect the very earth? I must be great! I must be this force of change I can feel"
No sooner does he think this than he finds himself in a garden, with a fork slowly turning and weeding the soil. A lowly but very contented gardener.