The man and the see-saw

His gnarled hands beckoned me towards him. "Come my child," he said. His voice was gruff, like stones being ground, and yet barely above a whisper. I suddenly had this image of a lion meowing.

"Come...do not be afraid. Come sit by me," he said, and I came. And as I sat down cross-legged, I got a closer look at him and noticed how beautiful he was despite the ravages of time. Long, white hair flowed from his head and beard in a waterfall...white silky hair, that seemed as gossamer as a spider's web.

"Look at this," he whispered, laying his hand on a child's see-saw in front of us. "Look at it long and hard, my child. I want you to balance it at its center." I nodded and did so, adjusting the wooden plank until I thought it was balanced.

"Now let it go...."

I took away my hand. The plank remained still in mid-air for a second, unsure of what to do, and then gently thudded down on one side.

"Again!" He said, and I jumped, for his voice was much louder this time. For a second, I glimpsed in his tone the true energy that flowed through him, hidden deep inside his aging body.

I quickly balanced it again, and in my hurry, the plank did not even hover this time.

"That see-saw is us, my son," he said. He lay a hand on my shoulder. Despite its scrawniness, it felt heavier than lead. "That see-saw is you...your mind. You cannot balance your emotions, your thoughts just one time and then let them go. No, you must continuously keep balancing them, making sure they stay afloat in mid-air. If you don't, they'll fall to one side, and you will have stumbled off the path of miyana ravi."

He sighed. It sounded like mountains rumbling. "And that, my child, is the ultimate failure."