The Prize

The third time I awoke, the noise had stopped. I opened my eyes and this time it was not as painful as before. At the foot of my hospital bed, directly in front of me, stood a man dressed entirely in black. He looked at me carefully, like a priest or a doctor, with concern in his eyes. His hands were folded in front of him, almost as if he were praying. His face showed no emotion but I could feel that he sympathized with me. I wanted to speak but when I tried, my mouth was difficult to open and I could make no sound. His face changed then and his eyes became deep and full of sorrow. Then, as a tear fell from one of his eyes, his face became expressionless once again. My thoughts were heavy but I was still too exhausted. The man continued to gaze at me as I fell asleep once again.

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It was a terrible feeling that had gripped Gautama. He could still feel the burning in his chest as he lay by the river. How long he had lain there, he did not know. He had been so thirsty and had put his lips into the water. But he was so weak from hunger and self-mortification that he had lost consciousness and his face had fallen into the river. He felt the pain in his chest like the hand of death was upon him. After a few moments, he coughed again and a few more drops of water bubbled from his lips. He felt he would lose consciousness again so he slowly dragged himself backward, away from the water. After coming so close to death by his own self-discipline, it would be a pity to accidentally drown. He pushed his body partially upright so that he leaned against the base of a tree and fell asleep.

He dreamed he was a boy again. The sky was blue and the fields and trees were just beginning to turn green. It was a new season and his father was in the fields with the other men. It was almost planting season and it was time to plow the fields. His noble father had his hand on the plowshare and was gently pushing it through the ground. The sun was bright but the tree he sat beneath provided a perfect shade. It was not too hot and an easy breeze brushed against his skin. Gautama closed his eyes and imagined he was floating amidst the clouds. Up and down he floated, with no particular direction to go, but enjoying the journey nonetheless. His mind was clear and his thoughts were quiet. He could not imagine a peace in his soul deeper than this moment.

He awoke to the sound of a woman’s voice. She was offering him food and thanking him for the granting of a wish. She said that she had waited for him for some time. She spoke to him as if he were a spirit or deity. He looked down at his emaciated body and indeed he must have looked very unusual. Not wanting to confuse the girl, he accepted the rice pudding and savored the nourishment it gave his weak and injured body. He motioned for her to sit with him awhile but she refused, merely stating that he should enjoy the food she had prepared especially for him. She said her name was Sujata and that as a young woman she had prayed at this tree for a happy marriage and a son. Those things she now had and she thanked him. And then, as quickly as she had appeared, she left him, still eating, still holding a golden bowl. He had not eaten in many days. This simple dish was more delicious than anything he had ever tasted before. He ate silently, savoring every grain of rice, and was overcome by warmth that flooded his whole body.

What was this feeling that filled him? He felt satisfied. He felt grateful. His mind and body had found a kind of balance with each other. He remembered his dream. He felt something of the peace he had when he was a boy. He was aware of his mind as he had never been before. He realized now that when he had punished his body, it had limited his mind. He thought of the tree. It grew towards the sky and towards the earth simultaneously. It could not grow in height without also growing in depth.

As his body digested the food, he found enough energy to sit up. He took some grass and placed it under his body and crossed his legs. And resting on his own weight, Gautama began to meditate. His mind was relaxed and thoughts opened like flower blossoms as new ideas occurred to him. He felt his mind open to the universe and he could perceive the nature of the world around him. For a long time, he had thought that his body was the key to unlocking the secrets of life. Now, he knew that the most powerful thing he could possess was his intellect. From within himself came a desire to explore the depths of his mind. So, he resolved to meditate until he could discover everything that was within himself.

As Gautama meditated under the fig tree, he began to lose perception of time. Night fell and the moon shone brightly overhead. And still, thoughts unfolded themselves within his mind. Morning came and night came again and this seemed to happen over and over, again and again. And still Gautama sat under the tree. He felt like he was waiting for a valuable treasure, a gift from the universe for his patience. Time moved by fluidly, sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly. Hours seemed like minutes while seconds felt like days. And then suddenly, he felt his mind fully open and his eyes blinded. He could see waves of light dancing around him, moving in time to a music that seemed to come from everything around him. The music slowed, then stopped, and he closed his eyes and rested a moment. And when he opened them again, he felt as if he were opening them for the first time.