A journey through the desert...

The next morning the Bedouin took down their camp and began the day's trek through the scorching desert. As they made their way, they would talk unkindly about the visitor from the previous night — although every so often they would think to pick up a stone.

At the end of the day (and after they had set up their camp for the night), they sat enjoying their meal around the fire. One of the Bedouin remembered the visitor's words and looked in his bag while the others watched on. As predicted he was both happy and sad because all the stones he had picked up had become jewels; he whispered to himself, "If only he had picked up more stones".

And there you have it, one big fat metaphor for the journey — the wealth of learning and how "kids just don't listen to their elders".

As I've mentioned I have used this story a number of times and always from the perspective of "learning": picking up those stones of information and knowledge that one day will turn into something valuable. This of course is still very true but I see this as much more.The best journeys are meant to be hard. The value and stories are in the challenges, twists, turns, disappointments and unexpected joy. If you don't walk in the desert once in a while (figuratively and even literally) then you will miss everything that comes with it — the good, the bad, the indifferent, as well as the exciting, amazing and wonderful. 

In all of the times I have told this story though, it wasn't until now that it truly struck me that  "kids really don't listen to their elders", be they 15 or 25, or somewhere in their 30's (even 40's maybe). 

And this is the real message — search out the wise, those who have walked the desert, and bring them into your counsel. Excluding your parents, how often do you search out the perspective of someone 15 to 20 years older than you? You should because they are the ones who will tell you to pick up stones.

I need to round out my counsel it seems,

iamgpe

* I do not know who penned this story but I think his or her name has been lost in the annals of time — Like so many great things.