Journey to the Blue Stone

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Here’s a little story that might have meaning to some of you here. I wrote this very simple story myself, but it is adapted from a tale I heard many years ago – so I cannot claim originality. I don’t recall all the details of the story, so I embellished it creatively. I wrote the story as part of a job application I made recently, to work with a team of creative writers. I did mention that the essence of the story was not mine. The reason I chose this story was because the job application asked for a one-page answer to the question “What makes you content, and why.” This was about 75% of my answer, with a little at the end explaining its relevance (which I haven’t included here. You can find your own meaning as you wish).

So, here it is…

In Indian lore there is an ancient a story of a young man who had a most profound dream one night. In the dream he was digging into the earth with his bare hands. As his tired fingers brushed aside the moist earth, he suddenly came upon a most brilliant blue stone. Its luminance was such that he had to shield his eyes for a moment. As his eyes adjusted to the lustre of the magnificent stone, he found himself gazing upon a gem so radiant that it seemed to be full of the life force itself.

The man awoke. When he realised that he had only been dreaming his heart was filled with great despair. He fell back to sleep, tears falling from his cheeks.

The following morning the excitement of the vision remained fresh in his mind. He was convinced that the dream was a direct message from God. Surely it meant that he would be rich beyond imagination and have all his wishes fulfilled! He knew within his heart that the blue stone was real, and that it would soon be his.

So that very day the man set out from his tiny village house, riding upon an old donkey which he had bought with the last of his money. He travelled all across India from village to village, scouring every hill and valley with his little pick and shovel. Upon his way he perused every gem store, seeking the blue stone that he knew was his by divine right.

The man’s search went on for many years. He was so possessed by his quest that he barely felt the passing of the years. Then one day as he left yet another gem store empty handed, he caught sight of his reflection in the shop window. He was shocked to see an old man staring back at him. It was then that the man suddenly realised that his entire life had passed him by, and so possessed had he been with finding the blue stone that he had forgotten to live. He fell to his knees in despair, right there in the street. He began to sob.

For some reason – perhaps because there was nothing else that he could do, so old and poor had he become – he began to meditate. His mind fell into a deep silence. For days he sat upon the street, breaking his meditation only occasionally to eat and drink the little food that was left there from the passers-by who took pity upon him. Then one night as he sat in meditative silence, there appeared before his mind’s eye a great blue light. At first it looked like a distant star. But slowly it grew and grew until its light engulfed his entire spirit. With that light there came the greatest peace imaginable. The brilliance of the experience was such that he knew that his quest was over. He was home.

The old man lived for many more years, and the brilliance of the blue light within never diminished. Then one night he passed away peacefully. For he was content, knowing that he had found the great blue stone that God had promised him.

Marcus

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