The Riding Sage

Back when tigers used to smoke, there was a man. He was more legend than man for very few had encountered him. But those that had could never forget him. He was tall, wore a white cowboy hat, loose fitting jeans and sunglasses. His complexion was dark and he had a reed between his teeth. He rode a white horse, a gelding of sheer beauty. He would ride into your life, impart some meaning and disappear. They called him the Riding Sage. This is how I met him.

It was a Thursday. Things were quiet, perhaps too quiet when a stranger rode into town and stopped at the saloon. He walked in, and I lost sight of him behind the closing saloon doors. A few minutes later, I entered the saloon to find him at the counter talking to the bartender. Something drew me to him so I walked up, arm extended and told him I was Sam. He said his name, but somehow it didn't seem like his real name.

We got to talking and suddenly he asked me why I was stressed. Was it the job I worked he asked. How he came to know that I hated my job at Cricket Farm I will never know. Perhaps it was part of the enigma that surrounded him.

A little fact about me. I have a working sixth sense. I can sometimes read the spiritual energy coming out of people. But with this stranger, I got nothing at all. It was almost as if I was talking to someone whose spiritual presence was nonexistent. Maybe it was too strong for my sense to latch onto, but it was almost as if the stranger was in front of me but at the same time wasn't.

We had started talking about my job dissatisfactions and I had told him how I sometimes felt like it wasn't worth it working there. I had mouths to feed and measly though the pay was, it got me by. He then surprised me again by guessing my mother had arthritis. At this point I had two choices-I could have gotten up and walked away or I could have sat in that chair and listened to what the stranger said. I chose to do the latter.

He was telling me that I had guilt in me, because I could not provide for my family properly. He told me that all of us can suffer guilt. My father could suffer it, my friends and mother could also suffer it but what was important was that we learn to put those bags full of guilt down and move on from them. They were toxic he said and they did nothing but pull a person down into the dark places he never wants to visit.

By this time it was late afternoon and the stranger leaned back in his chair and lit a pipe. He took a few drags and then told me something I will never forget. He told me it's okay to feel sad, but we shouldn't let that sadness define who we are. Our time on this planet is very limited and if we don't spend it laughing and sharing laughter with others, we aren't living.

I nodded at that and told him that nobody had said those things to me until now. The stranger replied that he was there for that purpose. He said he believed a lot in destiny and how it brought people together. People of different castes, creeds, religion and gender all meeting at some point in their lives and becoming known to one another. He had a twinkle in his eyes and he stood up suddenly and invited me outside. He then told me a chant. Four words. I repeat that chant to this day.

Then, just as I was to invite him to spend the night with me and ride out tomorrow he said he had to get moving. He got on his horse, doffed his hat to me and rode off into the sunset.

Why am I writing this you ask? I am writing this because one day destiny might make the Riding Sage cross paths with you. When and if it does, remember these words. Remember to tell me he has come. Remember his words. They can change your life.

The Bilge Master