The Ferryman

The ferryman’s oars dipped once again into the water. He was taking the next passenger to the islands. He did not remember how long he had been rowing the small craft back and forth from the Land of the Lost. He only knew that he did not know where he belonged.

The ferryman could have had a better boat with sails that would replace the toll put on his body. But he knew that to slow down would bring back those thoughts again; thoughts of somehow feeling incomplete.

The ferryman only took one passenger at a time as this was the custom practiced by those in his profession. The destination was to one of two islands but it was the nature of the passenger that directed his oars.

The ferryman was not very talkative. This too was the way it had always been. But he followed the rule to take the conversation as far as the passenger wished once they initiated the interaction.

Some of the passengers would not say anything during their entire journey to the island most suited to their nature. Still, this made little difference to the ferryman’s decision. Those destined for the Island of Acceptance had a sense of peace and self-assuredness about them. It was not arrogance; there was a strength to them that he could feel.

But when the ferryman knew that a passenger was destined for the Isle of Denial, he would often taunt them.

“Do you know how to swim?” he would ask. If they said that they could, he would throw them into the water. If they said that they could not, he would often leap into the water himself leaving the passenger stranded and forced to take over the task of rowing for themselves.

When the ferryman played his mischief on these sorts of people, the peaceful tranquility they had painted on their faces would often turn to rage. The ferryman would laugh knowing that they were even worse off than him.

The ferryman looked up and noticed the passenger staring at him intently. He had stopped paying attention to him as he (the ferryman) knew early on which island they would be going to.

“Lost in thought again?” asked the passenger. “Back to your rage against the machine?”

“How did you know that?” the ferryman growled.

“I could tell by the look of your face,” said the passenger. “At first, I thought it was jealousy because of where I was going. But now I see that it is something else.”

“Yes,” the ferryman replied. “I no longer wish to live in the Land of the Lost that we came from. I’ve grown sick of their blind obedience to serving the worst of what humanity has to offer. And I’m also sick of being forced to serve it myself. So, I row my boat across this water that cools my anger and I take people to places where I don’t belong.”

“That’s because you believe that acceptance is acquiescence,” said the passenger. “Your anger makes you “feel” as if you are making a difference. But have you made a positive difference for any of your passengers?”

“Probably not much,” said the ferryman dejectedly. “But by the time they get to me, their fate is already sealed,” he continued.

“That may be so,” said the passenger. “But yours is not.”

The ferryman nodded in understanding.

“Your anger at the injustice of the system robs you of the joy that you should have now,” the passenger continued. “When you operate at this level, your influence for bringing forth anything positive is limited. So is your own chance for happiness.”

“So, I should be just fine with the corruption of everything in our society while nothing is done about it?” the ferryman retorted.

“No, you should realize that no one gets away with anything,” said the passenger. “Each individual must face their own karma; and in this there is perfect justice. Your problem is that your anger has limited your vision and understanding of this basic truth."

“Sorry, but I just don’t get it,” said the ferryman. “I’ve seen so many bad people who rule us in the Land of the Lost that have literally gotten away with murder, over and over again. Where is the justice in that?”

“Their payment is often exacted on the other side, but you don’t see that far yet. I say again, no one gets away with anything. It’s the same with all of us, including you.”

“Yes,” said the ferryman. “I’ve seen this very clearly in my own life as well as in the lives of others that are close to me.”

“That’s right,” said the passenger. “And when you fully understand what we are discussing, you will realize that your anger only hurts you as well as your ability to communicate in ways that would influence those who have become lost in their denial. The justice you seek is perfect already. It is the timing of it that is unclear to you. It doesn’t need your emotions to change it.”

“But you don’t have the deeper understanding of this yet and because of this, you are a man without an island,” the passenger continued.

“That’s right,” said the ferryman sadly.

“It could be worse,” laughed the passenger lightening the mood. “You are simply experiencing one of the stages prior to acceptance. It is part of the process of undergoing the death of the false self.”

“The problem is that you’re stuck in the anger phase,” the passenger continued. “If you did not consciously experience this stage, you could have gone into denial that you were ever angry at all and put on an act that you are a caring and compassionate person. Because of missing one of the major milestones that leads to acceptance, these people have not the character to endure difficult times and many of them become lost in the New Age Movement along with their “holier than thou” gurus.”

“Yes,” the Ferryman chuckled. “They’re the ones I throw in the water just to watch their masks come off. The Isle of Denial is full of them.”

They ran into a sandbar about fifty yards away from the Island of Acceptance. The passenger helped the ferryman turn his boat around and pushed him back into the deeper water.

“Take some time back in the Land of the Lost and really watch what is happening,” said the passenger. “Although it may seem so, their karma is neither cruel nor unjust. It is as it should be. When you see this and feel compassion for those on the wrong path instead of rage, even if their choices could very well be at the cost of your own life, then you will be ready to come back here. This is because you will understand that there is more to you than just your physical body.

“Thank you,” replied the ferryman. He no longer had his thoughts in the dark realms of anger and injustice. He was now looking at things from a different perspective but with still a bit of secret deviltry thrown in.

“And don’t take pleasure from their pain,” yelled the passenger from the beach.

“Damn!” said the ferryman to himself as he waved back. “These Island of Acceptance people must be mind readers!”