There's a story about a beggar who's sitting on the side of a road. The old man has been on the road for years. A stranger approaches one afternoon. "Spare some change?" mumbles the beggar, mechanically shaking his tin cup.
"I have nothing to give you," the stranger said. The beggar turned away in disgust. Then the stranger asked, "What is that you're sitting on?"
"Nothing," the beggar told him. "Just an old box. I have been sitting on it for as long as I can remember."
"Ever looked inside?" asked the stranger.
"Why?" the beggar replied. "What's the point? There's nothing in there."
The stranger insisted, "Have a look inside." The beggar refused at first—then finally decided to pry the lid open. With astonishment, disbelief, and elation, he saw that the box was filled with gold.
This is an allegory about enlightenment. We spend our lives begging for what we already possess, and seeking what we've already found (even if we don't know it). "What you are looking for is what is looking," a teacher of mine used to say, meaning the same thing. What we need is already here.
