The Master was walking through the fields one day when a young man, a troubled look upon his face, approached him. “On such a beautiful day, it must be difficult to stay so serious,” the Master said.
“Is it? I hadn’t noticed,” the young man said, turning to look around and notice his surroundings. His eyes scanned the landscape, but nothing seemed to register; his mind elsewhere.
Watching intently, the Master continued to walk. “Join me if you like.” The Master walked to the edge of a still pond, framed by sycamore trees, their leaves golden orange and about to fall. “Please sit down,” the Master invited, patting the ground next to him.
Looking carefully before sitting, the young man brushed the ground to clear a space for himself. “Now, find a small stone, please,” the Master instructed.
“A stone. Please find a small stone and throw it in…
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