Angel Walk

Miles Moody

Boone, United States

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(Continued from Coyote Howl) I shared all this one day with someone, asking her what she thought was going on. Her answer was simply just another question: “If you were to suppose that these experiences are coming from a place of unlimited wisdom, then what wisdom is being communicated to you through them?” That was it exactly, I recall telling her, and then I waited for her to give me the answer to her question, which was nothing more than a rewording of what I had asked her to begin with. She just smiled and told me a little story that went something like this:

A Shovel and a Rock
By Miles A Moody

“There was a fellow dying of a serious illness; in fact, if it were not for the intervention of a mysterious healer, he would have surely died. The doctors had given the man up for dead and the priests had administered last rites, when the healer appeared and asked the young man why he wished to live. ‘I feel that I was meant to change the world for the better,’ answered the young man, ‘but now I shall die with my destiny unfulfilled and this is the saddest thing of all.’ The healer replied that surely there was someone who might continue the work begun by the young man; to this the man confessed, ‘I have wasted my life in things that no longer matter to me; it is here on my death bed that I have realized my true reason for being here on this earth.’

“The healer produced a flask of the foulest water drawn from the sewers of that hospital and poured forth a hearty portion. Pestilence swam in its fetid waters as the healer presented it to the sick man. “This is your illness. To the degree to which you trust in the truth in that which you have just testified to me, to that same degree shall this serve to heal you. Now drink up, if you dare.”

“It was contrary to the best advice of the doctors and priests that the dying man hoisted that rank beverage to his lips, and with the last of his strength he drank it down. It was to their utter amazement that the man walked away from his death bed that very day. He set to work immediately drawing up plans for a great center of healing, spending the last of his savings to purchase a property. Every day he rushed about in pursuit of the funds for constructing the center and each night he returned to his property to sit upon a large rock there at its center and cry out to the heavens in frustration. His presentations were flawless, and many of the rich and famous where in his audiences, but no one would listen to him and donate money. A small contribution he finally managed to receive was spent on a site preparation study; to his dismay, the man learned that the entire property was situated upon an extinct volcano lying just inches beneath the surface. His ‘rock of lamentation’ was but a tiny tip of that subterranean behemoth. The expense for foundation preparation alone would be astronomical, he was told. ‘Why did I feel to purchase this property,’ he howled from his rock. ‘Why did I think I knew how to make a difference in this world?’

“And so it was that the man sat upon his rock day and night beseeching the heavens, ‘I am a fool,’ he wailed, time and again. ‘Tell me what to do,’ and there was only that same shovel at his feet; it was all that remained of the site evaluation crew. ‘I am a bigger fool than I thought, because I feel to take that shovel there and strike this rock to prepare the way for my destiny.’ His tears gave way to anger and he pounded his fists bloody on the rock, until finally after many such days, he relented. ‘Okay, if you want me to clear away a volcano with only this pitiful shovel, then so be it. No matter how long it takes me, I will not lose faith again. I don’t understand how or why this will make any difference, but I will trust in the guidance that has brought me this far (continued with Angel Walk 2 ).’”
©Miles A Moody Written and photographic works are the sole property of copyright holder; reproduction in part or in full only with expressed permission or purchase.

Nikon F4s, f22 @1/30, Fuji Reala 100, Gitzo tripod, Great Smoky Mountain National Park

Artwork Comments

  • Ann  Warrenton
  • Miles Moody
  • ritaagostinelli
  • Miles Moody
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