The Offerer, the Porter, the Plowman and the Comer, talking, said to each other:
“We would make friends with someone who is able to consider non-existence as the head, life as the spine, and death as the tail; with one who understands that birth and death, existence and death are one.
All four looked at each other and laughed. Neither of them had any objections in their hearts, and they became friends.
But suddenly the Porter fell ill, and the Bringer of Sacrifice went to visit him.
“How majestic is that which creates things,” exclaimed the patient, “that which made me so bent!”
An abscess opened on his hump. His insides were crowded in the upper part of his body, his chin touched his navel, his shoulders rose above the top of his head, the tuft of hair on the back of his head stuck straight into the heavens. The Ether, the forces of heat and cold in him were in turmoil, but his heart was light and carefree. Having dragged himself to the well and looked at his reflection, he said:
- What a pity! That which creates things has created me such a hunchback!
- Don't you like it?
- No, how can you not like it? Let's say my left hand turned into a rooster, and then I had to crow at midnight. Let's say my right hand turned into a crossbow, and then I would have to get a bird for roast. Let’s say that my sacrum turned into wheels, and my soul into a horse, and they started riding me, would they change the team? After all, to gain life there comes its time, and its loss follows its course. If you are content with your time and follow the process in everything, neither sorrow nor joy will have access to you. The ancients called this liberation from bonds. Those who are unable to untie themselves are tied by things. But things can never overcome nature. How can I not like it?
But suddenly the Coming One fell ill. He was choking before death, and his wife and children stood around and mourned him.
Having come to visit him, the Plowman shouted at them:
- Get out of the way! Don't disturb the one who is transforming! “And, leaning against the door, he said to the dying man: “How majestic is the creation of things!” What will become of you now? Where will they send you? Will you turn into a rat's liver? Into the shoulder of an insect?
“Wherever the father and mother tell the son to go - east or west, south or north, he only obeys the order,” answered the Coming One. “The power of heat and cold is greater for a person than his parents.” If they bring death closer to me, and I disobey, I will turn out to be obstinate. Can you really blame them for anything? After all, a huge mass provided me with a body, spent my life in work, gave me rest in old age, calmed me in death. What made my life good also made my death good. If today a great foundry begins to melt metal, and the metal begins to seethe and says: “I must become the sword of Moses!”, then the great foundry, of course, will consider it a bad metal. If now the one who was in the form of a man begins to repeat: “I want to be a man again! I want to be a man again!” - then the creator of things, of course, will consider him a bad person. If we now take heaven and earth to be a huge melting pot, and the process of creation to be a great foundry, then where could we not go? I finish and fall asleep, and then wake up calmly.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru