The Three Sages and the Glasses

In the long ago, but not far away, two siblings, a brother and a sister lived happily with their elderly father. One day their father died and they were left with his two pairs of glasses. One pair, ornate with diamond inserts; the other made out of pure gold. They began to fight each other over who should take which pair of glasses. Finally, they remembered their father’s words “when I die one day, if you find yourselves disagreeing over my belongings that you inherit, go to the three sages at the grand temple in the far mountains.”

So, heeding their father’s advice, they took the two pairs of glasses and began their journey towards the mountains, hoping to seek the wisdom of the three sages.

When they arrived at the grand temple, the three sages opened the giant gates, almost as if they knew beforehand that the two siblings were coming.

“Welcome. We were expecting you. Come in,” the young sage ushering them in. The three sages were of different ages; a precocious young sage, a middle-aged adult sage, and a wise elderly sage.

My fellow sages, these two siblings have been bequeathed these two pair of glasses, which belong to their recently deceased father. They cannot agree on which one should take which pair of glasses. We shall help them find their way. I will start my counsel.”

The young sage sat at his humble chair, next to his fellow sages. And began his advice.

“This pair of glasses are yours, the other pair is yours. Simple as that,” said the young sage, almost about to laugh at how silly and simple the disagreement was.

“Fool! Don’t you see how that’s a very selfish way of distributing their father’s keepsake?”, interrupted the adult sage. “Both pairs of glasses belong to both siblings. They share in it equally. They each can exchange the two pairs of glasses from time to time and enjoy in their father’s wealth, together,” he replied.

“Oh no no no. You both have missed the point, my dear brothers,” the third and elderly sage intervened and began sharing his words of wisdom. “Let’s say one of the siblings died tomorrow. What will then happen?”

“Then both pairs of glasses will go to the sibling who didn’t die,” replied the adult sage, confused at his peer’s mystic words.

“Very well. Now tell me,” the elderly sage then continued, “what if both siblings die today? THEN, to whom will the pairs of glasses belong?”

Everyone was silent.

“You see,” the elderly sage continued, “Neither pair of glasses belonged to any of the siblings in the first place, or to anyone for that matter. The truth is, no one really owns anything in this transient world. Everything is impermanent, and our own lives are no exception. We may be led to falsely believe that each of us can own something, or even the equality-minded magnanimous thinking that we can all share in the bounties we have been given—yet none of our bounties belong to any of us. We will die one day—soon, don’t worry—and when that happens, we will leave everything behind, whether we want to or not.”

And from that point on, the siblings never fought over who owned what, because they learned that, in truth, nothing really belongs to anyone. That the world we live was like a hotel—we stay in it for a while, we may use the facilities it provides, ask for its bounties and enjoy the many pleasures it offers—but we should keep in mind that one day, we will have to check out from this hotel… and leave everything behind.