When the Mountain Is Whole, a Parfable

I wrote this parfable--part parable, part fable, all truth--way back in 2016 or so. It still seems so relevant to today.

There is a mountain, and it is whole and beautiful.

You cannot fully comprehend it in one viewing. You must travel around it, up it, into it in order to fully grasp its magnitude and even then you cannot not fathom its majesty.

There is someone, though, and he sees money in that mountain.

You watch him blow it up and see boulders slide down its sides. You weep for the mountain for you feel its pain. You know deep down that it has forever changed; it has lost its majesty.

That someone tells you, “Look at that boulder. It is as beautiful as that mountain. More so, in fact, because it can get you some money, and you need money to live.”

You think what he said to be a lie, and you know money to be a truth. You look at your home and your family, see how money can make both just a little bit better. His words hit a nerve.

He says, “Help me get more boulders, and I’ll share my profits.”

You bristle at losing more of the mountain and are taken by “share my profits”. You pick up a pick and go where he tells you. You focus on the boulder, your family and home. That boulder becomes beautiful for it gives you the means to share profits with your family.

He pats you on the back while stealing money from your pocket, says, “Take these pills they’ll make your body less sore, make it so can get even more boulders.”

Your shoulders ache and knees creak. The profits you hoped to share seem smaller than expected.

You take the pills and go back to work because you still have a family and home for which you need to provide. The boulders, though, have become rocks, and it takes you twice as long to collect half as much. And the pills take their grip, make you forget the mountain completely.

Meanwhile, that someone got rich, built himself a nice home far, far away. And he tells the world, “Look at these poor, dirty people who toil so hard and still can’t make a living. They are mountain people. It is just who they are.”

You hear his words on his campaign trail and they mirror your view. You do toil, are from the mountain; it is who you are. It, too, is not all of who you are. You have your family and your home, and your dreams for them seem so far away. You believe he can make it better for he’s given you so much and tried to take away some pain.

He sees the mountain getting smaller and smaller, knows soon it will be gone. He’s terrified of those he’s exploited seeing how he’s extracted their labor and land. He says, “These mountain people are sick. They need help to fight addiction,” and he shifts attention away from the pain he has caused to the pain inside each person. And this mirrors how he once shifted focus from the mountain to the boulders to the rocks.

You know his words to be true for you have witnessed too many relatives lost to addiction. You feel fractured; you long to be whole. You have a memory of the mountain, but its majesty is missing from the landscape. All you can find are pebbles for even all the rocks have disappeared.

He continues to peddle his lies and misdirections saying things like, “We will be great again,” and hoping no one will discover he stole the mountain.

There are keepers, though, of the mountain. They have not forgotten its beauty for it flows through their blood and it grows in their bones. Through songs sung around fires and dances danced in squares and stories told in circle, they share reflections of its majesty.

You have heard their stories, danced their dances, sung their songs at twilight. Each time, you remember a bit more of the mountain, feel just a little bit more whole. Still, you cannot fathom its magnitude. It seems just a bit too big.

These keepers continue to tend the mountain by gathering neighbors together. They know the mountain’s beauty, magnitude, and majesty can only be found in each other, that the whole is only in the whole. And that we means you and me.

He fears these keepers. He knows their truth is more powerful than his extraction and exploitation. So he continues to lie and misdirect and peddle and steal trying to make everything smaller and smaller and smaller.

And there is now a choice for you to make:

Will you continue to look only for pebbles? Or will you go find the mountain?