Black Knight and the Wizard

The wind howled, scraping dark clouds across the moon. Shadows shimmered and dry leaves rustled around the base of the rocks where I tucked myself up, resting next to my dog, Amos. He placed his muzzle on his paws, rolled his eyes up to watch me for any sign calling for action on his part. I squatted and leaned my back against the still warm rock face, tired from this day’s trek, caught by the early dusk. Amos signed audibly and closed his eyes. I looked up through the bare branches of the tree above me, hugged my knees and shivered slightly, though it was not cold out here. On the contrary, the air was humid and the sky flashed with occasional lightning in the distance. Then the thunder rolled over me, ever closer.
I heard a horse clattering over the stony ground, causing me to rise to my knees and peer over the rocks from the safety of this cleft. The Black Knight entered the clearing, draped in his dark cloak, black plume bobbing over the helmet that covered his face. A heavily gloved hand grasped a lance with its butt in the holder at his right heel, its point stabbing at the flying clouds. His left hand held the reins lightly, deftly guiding the black horse. The noisily clopping hooves and the silver sword at his left side flashed moonlight, giving away his moving presence on the path to the hilltop.
From my right among the trees came another figure, riding a spotted grey horse in the dappled moonlight, clad in dark clothing, long hair freely hanging over its rider’s shoulders. This horse moved in a dejected manner, tail drooping, and had to be urged on. The rider’s hands were bare too, but nearly covered by the sleeves of a long tunic. A sword moved with a soft thumping sound along the rider’s hip in its holster, leather squeaking on leather, boots in jangling stirrups. Both rider and horse seemed to keep their eyes on the ground, as if uneasily searching out the path in this stormy darkness, weaving this way and that, kicking up dry leaves as they clattered over loose rock.
I watched as these two figures caught sight of each other across the clearing, halted, charging the air with venom and hatreds. The black steed pranced about, eager to move forward, difficult to control. He reared back and forth, whinnied, shook his head and tried to take the bit in his teeth, forestalled by his master as the Black Knight pulled the reins more tightly to his chest. The grey stood still, more taut now, rigidly erect and watchful, his master’s right hand on the hilt, ready to draw the sword. The horse snorted, bared his teeth and looked around with wild eyes.
Lightning flashed and thunder pounded at that moment, perhaps goading them on. The Black Knight growled out his challenge, aimed his lance and unleashed the great energy of the black stallion. Simultaneously the figure on the grey horse straightened to great height, drew its sword flashing a warning, gathering strength. Manes, plumes and black hair flying, lance piercing the air, with a tearing screech and curdling yell, they charged each other at full gallop! Sparks flew from the rocks they dislodged! CRACK! BOOM!
I dropped to my hiding place, covering my head with my arms pressed over my ears. Even so, I heard the great crashing of these two beasts and their riders, the singing of the sword against the lance, whinny of horses, scrabble and pounding of hooves, startled birds flying up from their roosts, and then quiet. Stillness spread, even to the leaves.
Amos huddled closer to my side, peered up at me questioningly, but made no sound. I turned and stretched myself up again on tiptoe to look over the rocks, the smell of sulphur lingering in the air. Both riders were gone. A downed bare tree lay raggedly across the clearing like a broken lance. No other sign of them remained. I squatted down again with Amos, my hand stroking the coarse hair of his back, and closed my eyes, to recover here a bit yet before continuing on my path homeward. I felt Amos’ wet muzzle nosing my side. Resigned to weariness, I took a deep breath and opened my eyes to survey the hillside path below, then stood to resume my journey. Scenes of battle receded from my thoughts.
“I think the Wizard won, Amos.” Our eyes met, Amos’ ears perked up, and he cocked his head.
The wind had abated, sky cleared and the moon lighted the path more steadily as I stepped out, with Amos leading the way home.

Level 1: Medieval Fantasy
Level 2: Storm provoked dream of weary traveller
Level 3: Symbolic interaction of Chaos and Enlightenment abetted by Familiar




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A Dragon's Tale

The Dragon was lonely lately, leaving his home cave at times, and wandering about the countryside looking for someone to befriend. But he frightened the birds that flew up in a frenzy, off into the distance to alight chattering in other trees. Cats and dogs skittered into their master’s dwellings to hide under the beds or behind the stoves. People grabbed pitchforks and ran inside, slammed and bolted their doors. Cows and horses calmly continued chewing their grass meals, barely glancing at him. But the laughter of children was silenced whenever he came near to their dwellings. He knew he didn’t belong in any of these places.
Dejected, Dragon lumbered off, back into the low mountains nearby. He returned to the cave that is his home, big enough to accommodate his bulky body, but not too big. He often gathered some more grasses to soften his bed. Every day he foraged for fruits, nuts, roots and tender branches to sustain him. He would sleep through the winter just like the bears and other hibernating animals do. He didn’t breathe fire like some of his relatives. He was just an ordinary outsized dragon, with a large body, long tail with spikes, head and mane of dark hair, rough skin, and long nails on feet and paws. During his lumbering walks his head moved slowly side to side, watching for food and for friends, finding the first but not the second. Every evening he returned to his den to sleep alone. Though he had kind eyes, no one stayed around long enough to see that quality in him.
“I am fine, just as I am!” Dragon tried to convince himself of this. “I like being alone. Who needs company anyway? They just eat my food and go off anyway. Company gets in the way and keeps me awake telling stories at night, or they fall asleep and snore. I am better off as I am.” So day after day he sat alone outside the mouth of the cave, doodling pictures in the dust, erasing them, and starting over.
Every day Dragon would lumber down to the stream not far from his lair and wallow there for hours. He would spread himself out in the shallow water, slap the stream happily, flap his hands on the surface to frighten the little fish away, and thoroughly enjoy himself. The routine of foraging for food, doodling in the dust and bathing in the stream filled his days for years.

Thunder was rumbling down the valley one night, with enough cold rain to drive Dragon into his cave. Every now and then a lightning flash would light up even the darkness of his cave. Dragon heard the scrabbling steps of a horse just at the mouth of his cave, and looking up, he saw in the flash of lightning a human form on a horse, clad in dark clothing, hair streaming down at its sides.
“May we enter?” asked the figure on behalf of himself and his horse.
“I suppose,” answered the Dragon. “You are not afraid of me?”
“Should I be?” responded the figure.
“No, of course not,” replied the Dragon gruffly. “But most humans are.” He laid his long jaw down again along his forelegs, keeping his eyes on the visitor.
The rider and horse continued into the cave, the horsing picking his footing with some care over the smooth rock. The dark figure alighted and seated himself on a boulder, not far from the mouth of the cave but well enough in to avoid getting wet. He let the reins drop there, pulled some treats from his pockets and fed them to his mount.
“By what name shall I call you?” asked the Dragon, with little curiosity.
“You may address me as Wizard. So this is your home?” queried the figure.
“Well, yes” replied the Dragon, looking about a little, then back at the Wizard. “What of it? It’s dry and warm enough, good for the winter sleep. I don’t really need anything more.”
“Ah, well, it’s a bit sparse. Have you anything for me to eat?”
“I don’t save up anything, but just eat as it the food presents itself during the day. No food here, then no other creatures to worry over robbing me.”
“Then”, said the Wizard, “I shall have to provide for myself.” He pulled a sack from under his cloak, and loosening the drawstring, reached in for a loaf of bread and some cheese, and a flagon of liquid. “I shall share with you, if you’re willing.” The Dragon’s head came up in curiosity when the sack appeared.
“Don’t mind if I do have a taste. With my appetite there will hardly be enough in that bag for two of us,” the Dragon laughed.
The Wizard broke the bread and cheese into two parts, laying the larger parts in each case to the Dragon’s boulder, just between them. They ate quietly, savoring the flavors. The flagon was more of a problem, as there were no tumblers about.
“Here, you go first, and I will finish it,” offered the Wizard. Being very agreeable to that, the Dragon drank the flagon to its bottom, and returned it to the Wizard.
The Wizard promptly drank too, and wiping his mouth, commented about how thirsty he had been! Dragon was definitely amazed. He was also ashamed of himself for being so greedy. “That was no way to treat a friend,” he thought. “I can do better.”
“ You have been very kind to share with me,” said the Dragon. “I thank you.”
“Think nothing of it. I am grateful for a dry place in the storm. Thank YOU.”
Perhaps it was the drumming of the rain, or the quiet now that the thunder and lightning had passed, but the Dragon grew very sleepy, and letting out a great sigh, settled his great head along his forelegs again and fell fast asleep.

“Pssst, wake up!” Dragon was disturbed by an irritating little voice, very near to his right ear. “You’re crushing my tail!” wailed the small voice. “Move, you great oaf!” Dragon’s eyes were open now, and he lifted his head and turned to the sound, to find a gecko nearby, and no sign of Wizard and his horse.
“No one shares my cave with me! What are you doing here?” rumbled the Dragon.
“Well, I thought I could get the crumbs of the bread and cheese away safely enough, but you moved and pinned me here for the whole night. Now I am quite ready to leave, thank you.” The Gecko slithered slowly in the direction of the mouth of the cave, hoping thus to escape with as little fuss as possible.
“Wait a minute.” The Dragon’s brain was slowly recognizing something. Along the edge of the cave in the low hanging area, too low for a dragon, there was a path, a well used one, smooth but narrow. Dragon could see that others are sharing his cave. They must be passing him by all the time! Who? Where? He put his forepaw right in the path of the Gecko. “Stop!” he commanded. “How do you come to be here?”
“Actually, Dragon, we share this cave as our home, you and me and my family, and a number of others. We stay out of sight in hopes that we will not aggravate you. Are you a vegetarian by any chance?” Gecko looked at Dragon from the corners of his eyes, but mostly facing the entrance for an escape when the chance should become available.
“You live HERE, with ME?” Dragon had thought himself entirely alone. “How long have you lived here with me?” he asked.
“We were here first. Your Mother and Father came into this cave to escape a storm, and we heard them when they left. They left you here, I think, to search for food. They told you to stay here safely until they returned. But they never did come back so I guess you are on your own. Finally you began to come and go, I suppose to get your own food and drink. Of course, you grew considerably bigger too, and since you occupied only the center of the cave, we had no problem remaining around the edges. You never seem to notice us at all, even when we accidentally trod upon your tail or toes.”
“Did they abandon me here, do you know?” asked Dragon.
“I have no idea about that, really. But it has all worked out, so far. We will certainly stay out of your way.”
Dragon was beginning to enjoy having conversations. This was not a bad arrangement after all.
“Well, then, promise that you will come every night and talk with me. Then I will agree that you can stay in the cave.” Dragon thus laid out his command.
Gecko thought the Dragon foolish to think he had control over this situation, but it hardly mattered. A little chat with a Dragon in the evening might be a fine way to pass a few minutes.
“Right-o,” the Gecko agreed. “Just a little evening chat. But for now, I am off to search for seeds and such. Later.” Dragon was amazed at how fast Gecko could move. He was out of sight in a moment. Dragon looked about but didn’t catch sight of any others, although he thought he caught a slight movement beyond the rocks to his far right.
As he approached the cave entrance, Dragon was amazed at the amount of noise he heard out there. Birds called raucously back and forth, with the Crows arguing the loudest of all. Once out of the cave, he noted the frenzy of the bees and butterflies in the warm freshened air. In the distance he could hear the sound of axe falling against a tree, perhaps a farmer clearing his field. The world was full of activity!
“What a beautiful day,” he thought. He reached up high for leaves of the nearby trees, munched contentedly for a while. ‘I do not know how I came to be here, or why, but this is indeed a wonderful moment.” Since Dragon’s thinking is not particularly long or deep, he just held on to that thought for the whole morning and into the afternoon, when he went for his time in stream. He kept that thought alive while he lounged in the cool water, watching the birds take their baths too.
Back at the mouth of cave he paused, and noticed that all his doodles were messed up. The horse must have trod them, and the coming and goings of Gecko’s must have further scrabbled them. But Dragon didn’t care much. He was really looking forward to the promised chat tonight. And he was still holding tight to the thought: “This is a wonderful moment.”









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Meditation

Observing Noble Silence
Early morning and before retiring.

Meditation is a personal practice of calming oneself in the presence of the Universe. There are many techniques, and this is only one approach, for a short period. If this approach does not work for you, try another.

Directions:
• Before retiring, decide which blanket and pillow you will use.
• At arising, do not engage in any physical exercise.
• Do not communicate with anyone, even by eye contact.
• Wear little or no jewelry or makeup, and no watch.
• Do not bring any reading or writing materials with you.
• Brush your teeth, comb your hair, have a drink of water, and come comfortably dressed, remaining in pj’s if you wish.
• Sit where you have decided, back supported.
• Wrap up in your blanket and be seated quietly.
• The pillow goes under your feet, so you will stay warm and less distracted, or at your back, or under you, as you wish. Be as comfortable as you can. You may remove your chair and sit on the floor if you have meditated before.
• If alone you may wish to set a timer.

• Close your eyes and be silent. Place your hands in any position where they will not bother you or each other.

• Focus on your breathing, and make no physical effort.
Exit the your meditation place in silence and remain silent for a few minutes.

Suggestions: Do NOT try to control your breathing. Just observe the breathe flowing in and out. Thoughts will enter your mind. Fighting them will strengthen them. Just return your focus to observing your breathing. Observe the air as it touches your nostrils, and then all the way to your lungs. Allow your stomach to help with breathing. Notice any other body sensations but do nothing about them. Itches and tickles pass in moments. Do another short meditation on your own just before retiring.

Discussion:
A meditation experience is personal and unique. No two people have the same inner experience of life yet each one has a valid “window” into all reality. Therefore comparing your experience with another’s is really not necessary and sometimes it is discouraging.
For sustained development of meditation practices, attend a Vipassana 10 Day Meditation Retreat. Check the website for sites and other information.





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