There is a beautiful story by Leo Tolstoy that further illustrates the sublime practice of the present moment, “The Emperor’s Three Questions.” This story is replete with teachings about recognizing and serving the Divine in each other as well as practicing the present moment to experience the Presence. In Tolstoy’s story, the emperor sent out the decree that he would richly reward the one who answered these questions to his satisfaction;
1. When is the best time to do each thing?
2. Who are the most important people to work with?
3. What is the most important thing to do at all times?
Many, many people tried and failed to answer these seemingly simple questions. The emperor set off in search of the answers himself. He was told of a holy man who lived as a hermit and decided to find the hermit. Surely, such a man would be able to answer the questions.
When he finally reached the holy man, the emperor found him stooped, working in his garden. The hermit listened attentively to his questions, patted the emperor on the shoulder, and continued digging. The emperor, although perplexed by the hermit’s indifference to him, offered to help the old man. The hermit rested while the emperor dug. Many hours passed this way.
After some time, a wounded man approached. The emperor helped him, and dressed his wounds. In the morning, the wounded man regained consciousness and asked for water, which the emperor promptly fetched from the stream.
To the surprise of the emperor, the wounded man asked for the emperor’s forgiveness. The wounded man explained that he was a sworn enemy of the emperor who had killed his brother and seized his property. He had set off to kill the emperor but was caught by the emperor’s attendants who wounded him. After hearing the wounded man’s story, the emperor and the wounded man reconciled and the emperor ordered his attendants to return the man safely to his home.
The emperor approached the hermit, again asked his questions. The hermit smiled telling the emperor that his questions had already been answered.
The most important time was the time spent digging in the garden. For had the emperor not stopped and helped the old man by digging in the garden, he would have been attacked.
The most important person was the hermit and the most important pursuit was to help the hermit. Later, the most important time was the time spent helping the wounded man.
The most important person was of course the wounded man.
And the most important pursuit was dressing his wounds, for had he not done that the emperor would never have had the chance to reconcile with the man.
The old holy man told the emperor, “Remember that there is only one important time and that is now. The present moment is the only time over which we have dominion. The most important person is always the person you are with, who is right before you, for who knows if you will have dealings with any other person in the future. The most important pursuit is making that person, the one standing at your side, happy, for that alone is the pursuit of life.” (From Leo Tolstoy’s short story The Three Questions)
It seems that in order to discover the wisdom hidden in such a story (as well as the stories of our own lives) and drink the nectarean wisdom infused throughout such tales, we must slow down and contemplate the story.
The obvious message for being present and giving oneself fully to each unfolding moment offers an enticing entry into such contemplation. Yet, simply glancing at the notion that the “pursuit of life” is solely to bring happiness to the person at our side can raise the hackles of most of us who have been immersed in the pop psychology literature of the last couple of decades.
When I first read the story I felt myself bristle at the notion of trying to make another happy, after all, we are each responsible for ourselves, and our state of mind. However, upon considering how I would be with the person at my side if I knew her to be God, if he revealed himself to me as the essence of Divine Consciousness. Might then my pursuit indeed be to bring the Lord happiness? Only with a quiet mind have I glimpse the purity of such a pursuit. Again, I’m reminded of the value of a daily meditation practice.
Each one of us is faced with the challenge to slow down the rushing activity of the mind and the body and taste the nectar of the moments that make up daily life. For only in the present moment does Love, does the Greatest Mystery, reveal Itself. Only in the present can we glimpse Grace sneaking in.
As I mentioned in a previous Sacred Threads post, I sometimes feel as though I am playing a great game of hide and seek with God. If I let myself be still enough even in the midst of activity, I spot God and find mySelf at Home, in Heaven, in my heart. Enough of these moments strung together are like perfect pearls joining to form an exquisitely simple yet beautifully elegant strand of jeweled moments that make up the garland of my life.
