“Yes, we find fishing so much fun, but what if we never ever caught a fish or came to find out that there were really no fish in the pond?  We wouldn’t enjoy it then, Akina.”

“Tonga, look at that bird. He has been sitting on the same branch in the same place all morning.  He must be very pleased and content where he is.”

“Maybe not,” responded Tonga.  “Perhaps he is injured and can’t fly.”

“Hmmm,” replied Bizah.  "Perhaps he is waiting for his mate to return and find him there.”

“Could be. But what if the bird is just afraid to fly and try out its wings over new terrains?”

“Or maybe it just likes to sit in that particular type of tree,” mused Bizah.

“Tonga, it’s that time of year again when everyone goes a little mad, running around trying to get their homes in order, decorate them, invite people over for festivities, frantically look for the perfect gifts for their family and friends.  I just want to opt out of all of this craziness this year.  Humbug to Mid-winter festival.”

“I know it can get a bit much, Bizah,” Tonga replied. But what would winter be without it?

Bizah fell into silence.

Bizah’s Master ended his teaching that day as he had done before on other days.  He said, “Remember that even though I am the Master, I cannot teach you the Truth.  That you must come to on your own through your own direct experiences.  I can only point you to the treasure; you must be the one to go and find it. I can only give you signposts, pointers to the Truth.  And even these signposts are of no use to you unless you continue to follow in the direction they point you.”

Bizah was particularly quiet one day. Noticing this, the Master went up to him and asked, “Is anything bothering you, Bizah?”

“When will I be ready to be of real service to others, Master?”

“Look at that plum tree, Bizah.  It is not yet ready to produce its plums.  It knows that for now, it needs to take in nourishment from the air, the ground, the sun.  Then in the right season and at the right time, it will be able to produce many plums for others.

“Master, when I run, I don’t know if I should just run until my body tells me to stop or to set some time and distance goals for myself each day.”

“What do you want to do, Bizah?

“Just run until my body tells me I have had enough that day.”

“Then do that.”

“Master, you said that if I run long enough, I will come to the time when I feel I am being run. How is that?”

Bizah and Tonga had finished with their schooling and chores for the day, so they decided to sit down by the lake.

Tonga was the first to break the silence.

“Bizah,” he said, “my sister just lost her husband and is in the deepest grief imaginable. She is in anguish night and day. She says she doesn’t want to be here anymore, doesn’t want to go on living alone without her husband.”

Bizah put his good saffron robe to the side and donned a shorter white one. He took off his sandals and dug his toes into the ground. He was ready to get running.

The fifteen minutes were tough for him from start to finish. All he could do was think about not tripping, how much his knees hurt and his lungs burned.

When he got back he was met by his Master who was smiling. “Bizah, I hear that you are now exercising your body every day.”