The Wise Monster and Two Monkeys

In a forest where shadows danced with light, two monkeys discovered a perfectly ripe banana at the exact same moment. Their fingers touched the golden fruit simultaneously.

"It's mine! I saw it first!" screeched the first monkey.

"No, I touched it first!" howled the second.

Their voices grew louder, their pulling more fierce, until the banana began to bruise in their grip.

From beneath an ancient tree, Ojas—the Wise Monster—watched with gentle eyes. The monster that had once been feared was now known throughout the forest for carrying truths that others needed to hear.

Ojas approached slowly, each step measured like a breath.

"Little friends," said the monster in a voice like warm thunder, "may I ask you both a question?"

The monkeys froze, still clutching the banana. They had heard of this wise creature, how questions from Ojas opened doors inside oneself.

"What are you really fighting for?" asked Ojas.

"The banana!" they said together.

"Are you certain?" The monster's eyes held something deeper. "Or is it something else your hearts are seeking?"

The first monkey's grip loosened slightly. "I... I'm hungry."

"I'm hungry too," admitted the second, "but also... everyone always takes things from me."

"Ah," said Ojas, placing one large paw gently on the ground between them. "The monster parts are not your enemy. They're just the parts that need your love the most."

The monkeys looked confused.

"Your anger," continued Ojas, "is protecting something tender inside. One of you fears going without. The other fears being overlooked. These feelings deserve kindness."

Ojas sat like a mountain—steady, present—and invited the monkeys to breathe with him. In and out. Slow and steady, like a river flowing through them.

"When we are stormy inside, the breath brings us home," said Ojas.

The monkeys breathed. Their shoulders dropped. The banana hung forgotten between them.

"Now," said the wise monster, "what if the space between you is just a story you're telling? What if there's another way?"

The first monkey looked at the second monkey—really looked—and saw someone just like herself. Scared. Hungry. Wanting to matter.

"We could... share it?" suggested the first monkey quietly.

The second monkey nodded, surprised by the warmth spreading in his chest.

Together, they peeled the banana and broke it in half. It wasn't perfect—one piece was slightly bigger—but neither minded.

As they ate, Ojas shared a gentle truth: "Darkness and light need each other. Your anger helped you speak your needs. Your softness helped you hear each other. Both matter."

The monkeys sat beside the wise monster, feeling fuller than any whole banana could have made them.

"Real friendship starts with real seeing," said Ojas. "And you both chose to see."

Before leaving, the second monkey asked, "Were you always this wise?"

Ojas smiled—a monster's smile, but warm. "I was once as stormy as you. But I learned that the things we fear most often guard the truths we need most. Your anger was guarding your wish to be valued. Honor the feeling, but also look beneath it."

As the moon rose, the two monkeys left as friends, and Ojas returned to the quiet space within, where wisdom grows in the soil of questions asked and kindness practiced.

The forest whispered its approval through rustling leaves, for it knew that when one being finds peace, ripples spread to all.

The Butterfly and the Frog

A butterfly rested upon a lotus leaf,
Wings still damp from transformation.
The frog watched from beneath,
Perplexed by such fragile beauty.

"How strange," croaked the frog to no one.
"Yesterday a crawler, today you fly.
I have always been as I am now,
Never changing, never soaring."

The butterfly's wings caught sunlight,
Patterns like ancient maps unfurling.
"But you too have transformed," it whispered.
"From egg to tadpole to the being you are now."

"That was long ago," said the frog.
"I've forgotten what it means to change."
The butterfly fluttered closer.
"Perhaps that is the greatest loss of all."

They sat in silence by the pond's edge.
The frog, master of two worlds—water and land.
The butterfly, keeper of impossible journeys.
Each seeing in the other what they could not see in themselves.

"I envy your lightness," admitted the frog.
"And I, your rootedness," replied the butterfly.
"You know where you belong."

That night, beneath a silver moon,
The frog dreamed of wings.
The butterfly dreamed of still waters.
Both awoke understanding something new.

The frog leaped higher than before,
Finding moments of flight between certainties.
The butterfly learned to rest longer on leaves,
Finding peace in pausing its constant motion.

They taught each other without teaching.
They learned from each other without trying.
The frog with its practical wisdom.
The butterfly with its impossible grace.

Neither became the other.
But each found within themselves
Something of what they admired.

The ancient ones called this "darshan"—
Seeing the divine in another
Until you recognize it in yourself.

What might you learn today
From those most different from you?
What wisdom waits in unexpected forms,
Hoping you will see beyond appearances

To the truth hiding in plain sight?