by Thomas LeRoy
“I walked the path to the left!” said a man, beating his chest, in the village square. “I know all there is to know of it’s ups and downs, it’s hills and valleys, its crags and meadows.”
Another man stood and he, too, beat his chest proclaiming, “I have faced the demons on the path! I have conquered them and have made them my slaves!”
And still another. “Lo, I have trekked where no man has trekked before! I have seen sights that would melt the eyes of most men!”
And another.”I have tasted the spices of Hell, and have drunk the mead of Hades! Cerberus, I have made my pet, and Kali my lover! Satan and Shiva have bowed down before me for I am divine! I am my own God!”
“Excuse me,” said the Individual, raising his hand.
But the others kept pounding their chests, trying to out-do one another in volume and bombast.
The square went quiet for a moment.
“I have a question,” said the Individual. “If you all had been on the path, and have found your divinity, then why are you still here in the village?”