Past Life Story

You were born a bear, in a deep mountain cave in Mt. Sobaek. You were small at first, but soon you grew. As you grew, your strength grew beyond the strength of others. The strongest of the mountain. That was you. By six months you walked alongside your mother. Your mother taught you. Where to find food. The flowers of spring, the berries of summer, the chestnuts of autumn, the bark of winter. The bear is an omnivore, surviving on what the seasons give. In your second year, you left your mother's side. The bear lives alone. So is the way of the bear. You went into a deeper part of the mountain. You found your own cave. From that day on, that cave was your kingdom. In your third year, you encountered the world. There were tigers, leopards, and wolves on the mountain. Yet you feared none. The bear is the strongest of the mountain. You stood up on your hind legs and showed your full size. Other beasts gave way. They knew your dignity. In your fourth year, you ate insufficient food in autumn and entered hibernation in your cave. For three months you slept. While sleeping, the world stilled. When you opened your eyes again, it was spring. New life shone before you. The bear knows the cycle of the seasons. The bear is a being that lives along with the rhythm of the earth. In your fifth year, you had a brief love. A bear who had come from a neighboring mountain. You spent one summer together. You parted in the autumn before hibernation. Three cubs were born to you. Yet they were not raised with you. The female bear raised them alone. That was the way of the bear. In your seventh year, you saw your own cubs once more. Even though you had not raised them, you knew they were yours. Your cubs had grown well, becoming masters of their own mountains. You did not draw close. You only watched from afar. That was the love of a bear father. In your tenth year, you encountered a man. A hunter came up the mountain. The hunter raised his bow toward you. Yet you did not run. You stood up on your hind legs and showed your full size. The hunter froze. Looking up at the bear, the hunter knew. He could not face such a one. The hunter quietly retreated. In your twelfth year, your true family came to you. A small cub had lost its mother in the village. You saw it and protected it. Even though it was not your cub, the bear has a great heart. You took the cub to your cave, fed it, and raised it. After it grew, that cub also became a great bear and went to find its own mountain. In your fifteenth year, you grew old. Your sleep was longer than before. In a winter of your sixteenth year, you entered hibernation, and you did not wake again. Even your cave grew quiet. The bear walked along the rhythm of the earth, and at the end returned to that rhythm. When the bear stands once, the mountain trembles—that was your life. You did not show your strength often, but when you did, none could face you. Yet your truer strength was your great heart. You were tough on the outside but warm on the inside. Your soul, even now somewhere in a deep mountain, must be moving slowly. With the rhythm of the earth, with the cycle of the seasons. If sometime you encounter a great quiet presence—that, perhaps, may be the soul of a bear.