The figurative language of myth can act as a clearer map of meaning, in the face of growing uncertainty, illuminating a curious kind of truth, based purely on story, by providing a narrative framework that resonates deeply with our natural understanding of universal patterns and symbols.
In a remote village, nestled among whispering forests and gentle hills, there lived a young man of humble origins but earnest spirit. The villagers, facing times of great uncertainty and seeking guidance, pooled their resources, amounting to five gold coins, and entrusted them to the young man. His mission was to seek out The Source of Wisdom.
After some time, he had wandered from village to village, through forests, and old ruins. He had waited up all night and searched the stars for meaning, he spoke to other merchants and travellers along the road, but they laughed at him, or said they could not help, or they tried to divest him of his coins. Eventually, he came to a crossroads where he slumped dejectedly, hoping for a sign of which path to choose, he was hungry, for his provisions had run out, and he was footsore and beginning to lose heart. That evening an old woman came by, she had deep grey eyes and a kind voice. She greeted him kindly and asked him about his circumstances, and he told her about his quest. As night began to fall she complained about the cold and asked him if he could gather firewood and make a cooking fire for them. The young man had learned woodcraft skills and eager to be of service he gathered firewood and presently had a small fire going. The old woman shared a small meal with him, and for his five gold coins, she offered him a magic seed, claiming it held the answer to finding the Source of All Wisdom.
Additionally, she directed him to the city where a renowned sage resided, telling him that she had known the sage when he had been a young man, and he had also been on a quest for wisdom. The young man accepted the offer and the next morning the old woman had disappeared and had left him a gift of a golden sieve. With the seed and the golden sieve safely tucked away, the young man continued on his journey, his heart full of hope.
Upon reaching his destination, the young man asked people for directions and made his way to the sage's tower on the outskirts of the town. He knocked at the door, and a servant answered and turned him away. Undeterred and burdened by the gravity of his quest, he waited until the servant had left and knocked again. This time the sage himself answered the door. The young man was so excited, that he blurted out his quest and rummaged in his pockets for the magic seed, but the sage took him for a beggar and turned him away, telling him to go and beg at the marketplace at the heart of the town.
The young man took something from this advice and made his way to the marketplace. The townsfolk and the stall keepers made disapproving remarks, sprouting proverbs at him about the foolishness of youth and the folly of expectations. He did manage to learn that the sage was known to come to the market once a week to collect provisions and would share his wisdom with the townsfolk, dispensing wisdom and terse critique in equal measure.
Later that week when the sage did come to the market, the young man learned that the townsfolk with their condescending wit were a reflection of the sage's influence; the people had absorbed his pedantic wisdom and derisory critique, scoffing at each other, tutting disapprovingly at any minor thing, derising each other that they ought to know better—everyone wanted to be the one to dispense the wit and wisdom. While the sage had been absent, they had assumed airs of wisdom, attempting to outdo each other in displays of knowledge. And when the sage arrived they listened piously, never asking questions for fear of being made a fool of. When the sage asked the gathered crowd if they were following along, or if they understood a word that he had used, they pretended to understand, so unwilling they were to be thought of as foolish.
The sage asked if anyone had questions, and seemed a little disappointed when only a small line formed comprised of other out-of-town folk who had travelled to seek counsel from the sage. To each, he held out his hand for a gold coin before he would answer their question. And to each, he gave an answer deriding them for their ignorance. Seeing his own chance, the young man waited his turn, presented his quest and the magic seed as his offering, dropping it into the sage’s outstretched hand. The sage, with a scoff, dismissed the young man's earnest offering, casting the seed into the well at the centre of the marketplace, and walked away, leaving the young man dejected and being plied with witty retorts and ‘told-you-soes’ from the townsfolk.
Driven by his concern for the magic seed and its potential, the young man drew bucket after bucket up, and remembering his golden sieve, sieved each bucket carefully.
Then, something curious happened.
Due to the power of the magic seed, each bucket drawn would yield from it a single cup, which when drunk, would utter a whisper of wisdom to the drinker. All that day he took it upon himself to tend to the well, ensuring that the seed would not be accidentally drawn up and thereby lost. He had more water than he could drink so he readily shared the secret of the well, and people began to gather to take turns drawing the first cup from out of each sieved bucket, and so partake, receiving some direct wisdom from the well to the measure of their behaviour and the questions they carried secretly in their hearts.
Day by day, the young man drew the water, carefully sieving each bucket to protect the seed. Over time, the people of the city came to know him as the well-keeper. Additionally, the golden sieve caught many coins that had been dropped into the well, and small pebbles and other items people had thought lost or misplaced. Eventually, he opened up his own small stall beside the well and he would sell the things that came up, or reunite them with their owners, as well as serve the precious cups of wisdom that could be drawn from each sieved bucket. Over time, they stopped fawning over the sage, and their manner toward each other became more kind and humble—for everything that they had pretended to be so wise and scornful of their neighbours, they now began to make amends for by freely admitting to their earlier haughtiness and begging apology.
One day there was a fire that broke out in the sage’s tower and the townsfolk formed a line passing buckets to put out the fire as fast as the young man could draw them from the well. Many of the sage’s texts and scrolls were burned and the well had been all but emptied.
For several days after the well remained all but dry, its flow stemmed to a meagre trickle, prompting the young well-keeper to venture into its depths. He toiled for hours in the dark, feeling his way, digging deeper, clearing the well of weeds and silt and other clutter until it ran with clarity and abundance again. After his long day of toil, the young man fell into a deep sleep. During that moonlit night the magic seed, nourished by the wellkeeper's diligence and the rejuvenated well, sprouted into a magnificent tree. Its branches reached for the heavens, its roots delved into the source of the water, and its leaves shimmered with golden light, casting a gentle radiance over the marketplace.
The fruits of the tree, aglow with an inner light, became a beacon of marvel and wisdom for all who tasted them. This miraculous tree, born from a seed cast accidentally into the dark depths, had transformed the well into a fountain of wisdom, enriching the lives of all in the city. Travellers came from far and wide to drink from the fountain, eat the sacred fruits and sit in the shade of the tree.
The sage quickly learned about the magic tree, and remembering the offer of the magic seed, reflected on how his disdain had cast it into the well. He approached the wellkeeper and thanked him for helping to save his tower from the fire. He asked the young man about his story and learned the story of how he had come by the magic seed that he had been given by the old woman a year before. With the spell of his own cleverness broken, the sage committed to working alongside the young man, teaching him everything he had learned, and learning in turn, what the young wellkeeper had learned drinking the wisdom-giving waters of the well.
Passing the duties of minding the tree and the well to the sage and his servant, the young man, took his leave, to return to his village to fulfil his quest. He carried with him only his golden sieve and a single fruit from the tree,
Upon his return to the village, the young wellkeeper, now a man of wisdom and renown, was greeted with anticipation and warmth by his fellow villagers. They gathered around, eager to hear of his adventures and the Source of Wisdom he had sought. In his hands, he carried only the golden sieve, and the single fruit—no gold, no scrolls, no tangible proof of the wisdom he had sought so far and wide.
At first they rejoiced, and then they simply became curious for the young man would say nothing and bade them be patient. He found a sacred clearing at the centre of the village and he planted the fruit. All that winter he would gently turn people away and kindly encourage them that he would share the answers they sought in good time.
By spring a young seedling had sprouted in the clearing. Day after day the villagers would come by to see if the seedling had grown and if the young man deemed the time right to share his story.
By high summer the tree had grown to the height of a man and began to show signs of the silver leaves and feint golden light. That night they made a feast and the young man announced he would fulfil his quest and share with them the answer he had been sent to discover many moons ago.
As they listened to his tale, from the magic seed to the tree that sprouted overnight, the villagers were captivated, not by tales of grandeur but by the profound simplicity of his journey. And as the fire in the hearth burned low, a golden glow from the tree began to shine upon their faces and the young man smiled and shared the greatest lesson he had learned.
“The Source of Wisdom,” he began, “is not a place to be found, nor a sage with all the answers. It is not in pedantics or proverbs alone, but in the kindness it is shared with, the community we build in the sharing, and the many humble acts that go unnoticed. It is in every cup of water drawn with care, it is in the careful sieving of what we draw from the well, and in every seed—magic or mundane—that we nurture.”
The villagers, moved by his words, understood that their young friend had fulfilled his quest, not by finding The Source of Wisdom in a distant land, but by becoming a source of wisdom himself, through his journey, the supposed accidents and the willingness to stay committed to his simplest intention especially when it seemed his quest had been taken from him by circumstance.
Sometimes, something we toil at for a year can even seem to die, and then can suddenly sprout forth in all its magnificence.
The Golden Sieve in the story serves as a metaphor for Discernment—the ability to sift through information, experiences, and advice to distinguish between what is truly valuable and what is not. Just as the sieve separates the wheat from the chaff, so does Discernment allow an individual to see beyond the superficial or misleading and grasp the deeper truths. In the narrative, the golden sieve not only filters out the unwanted debris from the water but also reveals treasures within the ordinary, reflecting how Discernment can lead to unexpected wisdom and rewards. What other metaphors speak to you?
Thank you for this Quenching, for I was thisty & you gave me to drink from Wisdoms Story-Well
xox