At the top of a tall mountain there lived an old man. The man had lived on the mountain since he was very young. There was a long standing custom in his tribe that when a boy reached the age at which he became a man, he took a voyage into the wilderness where it was believed, or hoped anyway, that he would find enlightenment. The old man had left the tribe many years ago on his search, and had traveled near and far, high and low, and to and fro in search of knowledge, wisdom and compassion, but he never found any of the three.

After years of wandering, the man came to the foot of the mountain. “Perhaps,” thought the man, “the answers I seek lie up there, somewhere.” This thought gave the man courage to continue his quest, and it seemed to him that, indeed, he may find enlightenment at the mountain’s peak, since, as he remarked, “it certainly isn’t anywhere down here.”

And so the man began to climb, but the way was long and difficult. The man, though, was determined to find enlightenment, and so as the climb progressed he mustered all the strength and courage and long-suffering that he possessed, and no matter how treacherous the path became, the man would not be swayed from his goal.

Finally the man arrived at the summit, tired, broken and bloodied from his struggle. He threw himself down on the ground, exhausted from the long climb. With one exultant cry of pride and satisfaction, the tired man lay on his back and slept the sleep of one who has just had the weight of the world lifted from his shoulders.

When the man woke he felt refreshed and energized. All of the aches and the pains of his long journey were gone. The man remarked to himself that he felt better than he had in ages. He shouted with joy. “This,” he said to himself, “must be enlightenment!”

But doubt remained in the man’s head. He thought he felt enlightened, but how could he know that feeling was true? “I know,” he said, “I will sit on this mountain and I will contemplate the meaning of the Universe. If I can understand everything that I contemplate, then I will know that I am enlightened.”

And so the man looked about him to find a comfortable place to sit, for if one intends to contemplate the Universe, he reasoned, one can expect to sit for quite some time. Finally he found a flat, round stone that would enable him to sit comfortably, while at the same time allowing him to look out over the entire valley below. He paused momentarily, looking down on the valley where he had spent so much time searching for enlightenment. “So much time,” he said, with a hint of sadness in his voice. “And all the while the answers I sought were right up here.” He shook his head. “If only I had known, I could’ve saved so much time.”

The man felt resentful suddenly that no one had told him about this place before he left. But it was only a fleeting feeling; after all, enlightened beings don’t stay angry for long.

“No matter,” he thought, dismissing his anger. “At least I’m here now. Soon I will return to the tribe, and I will show them that I am enlightened. And,” and as he said this the man was filled with pride, “when I return, I will tell the others where to come for enlightenment.” Satisfied, the man stretched his arms, took a deep breath, sat down, and thought. And thought. And thought.