4am-ish, awake, I read, at random, an ancient Japanese occult story about a man and his son hearing the call of the three-jeweled owl in the middle of the night as these two pilgrims bid their time in a Buddhist temple having no place to lodge.
As a boy scout in a tent of existence with nothing more than a flash-light of consciousness at my disposal, I myself look for a connection between these fictional men and my own mind.
The three-jeweled owl calls out: “Buddha, dharma, sangha” and I realize that I have been hiding behind my introversion. I have never valued sangha (community). Forgetting that the River of Introversion is poisonous, I keep scooping up handfuls of isolation.
What thirst you for?
Learn from my mistake:
If you are a fish, go to school.
If you are a bird, flock together.
If, like myself, you are a modern-day ape, value your sangha.
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