years ago, the guru would arise every day at dawn to write about #zen. after that, he would supervise improvements to his school. then, he would go out and teach the villagers.
now, he could barely pull himself out of his bed. he had no desire to write more about #zen, and he had no opinion on the improvements to his school. he just wanted to curl up in his bed, close his eyes, and go to sleep.
so he did, and during his sleep, he dreamt.
he dreamt he was a tortoise, eating a bite of lettuce. he dreamt he was a tyger, chasing his prey through the woods. he dreamt he was a lake, floating in himself.
in each of these dreams, he was happy, but when he awoke, he was a guru, and he was not.