Monday, January 12, 2009

Knights of Heart


Knights of the heart.

A long time ago, in a city full of people, there lived a boy who could feel the thoughts of others.
He knew what they were thinking in their heart.
The words people said to him meant little to him.
“Hello young man, how are you today, so nice to see you”, the shopkeeper smiled at him.
“You mean: ‘I hope this little bastard buys something today and doesn’t just look and touch everything’ ”, the boy replied.
He looked at the man, “Don’t you?”.

And the boy found that people did not like to know the truth.
They did not like it when he told them what he saw.
They wanted him to believe what they said, even if they did not believe it themselves.
As he grew up the boy found that the world was a game of make believe.
Everyone thought they were fooling everyone else.
“You are but fooling yourselves”, he told them.
“How dare you insult us and think such things ?”

And thus the boy learnt that he could not believe the words of his fellow humans.
He realized that they hid the truth even from themselves.
The people wanted to believe their own words rather than feel the true thoughts of their hearts.
And believing their own words they acted on them.
And acting on them they wondered why they became unhappy.
Their lives became difficult and confusing.
So they asked their clever men to help them. The clever men brewed up strange concoctions that made people forget who they were and what they wanted and allowed them to feel happy for a time.
The clever men said they only did this to make people happy.
But hiding the truth from themselves they found only pain.
So the people asked to be free of pain.
And the clever men brewed and built special foods that made the people forget their pain – but they also forgot their reason for living.
And forgetting their reasons for living they fought amongst themselves. They killed each other and the plants of the Earth.

And so it was that in those days, the truth of men’s hearts became more and more precious and only a few warriors of the heart had the courage to look into its face.
And of those few, only those brave enough to enter the flames of truth found the sweetness of truth returned unto them.


Living in the city, the boy felt great pain. He felt alone even in the city of millions.
One evening at sunset, the boy quietly left the city of men and went to live in a cave by the sea.

Sometimes visitors would come to visit the boy in his cave.
“You are very lucky to live here”, they would tell him.
The boy only shook his head.
“I live her because I cannot live in the city of millions of men”, he said. “to be honest I am also running away,” and he looked sad.

Once a rich man came to visit him.
“What is truth ?”, his visitor asked him.
“Truth is like money: you may borrow some and use it. But you must pay back with more of what you took.”
“I must pay back”
The boy nodded.
“What if I do not? “
“ The light of truth should increase”, the boy replied.
“What if I do not? “
“Why is this so ?”
“I do not know. It is.”
“I do not believe you”.
The boy walked away.

One year later the rich man came back to see him.
“Why are you here?”, the boy asked him.
“Ah... yes. The compass to truth beeth pain”, the boy sighed and he asked the rich man to sit down and share a cup of hot tea with him.
They did not speak again that day, but only drank tea.

The next day the rich man said:
“I have asked the clever men in my employ to find more truth, and they did. But I have only earned more pain in my heart. - Why ?”.
The boy saw that the man’s question came from his heart.
“You have borrowed from truth again and again. But to multiply truth is not the same as paying it back”, the boy smiled because he knew the rich man understood this language well.
“You have not yet paid back and you have not even paid interest”.
“How do I pay back truth ?”, the rich man asked.
“If I borrow the fire from a candle, how do I pay back its light ?”
“By lighting other candles”, his visitor said.
The boy smiled and sipped his tea.

“I will go and tell this truth to my fellow men. I will start a great movement of truth”
The boy shook his head.
“No, the truth of the heart cannot be given or forced onto another, it must be chosen freely by each man. The battles beeth in thine own heart. Many will offer thee ‘shortcuts’ to bypass this battle. In truth they beeth only shortcuts to greater pain.” The boy shook his head.
He felt tired and sad.
“Each man is called freely to be a warrior of the heart, though few are chosen”, he smiled at his visitor.
“Someone said this a long time ago”.
“Indeed”, he boy bowed in acknowledgement.

One more year passed and the rich man returned again to visit the boy by the sea.
“Thank thee for thine words”, he said, “I have found peace in mine heart”.
“Tell me”, the boy poured a cup of hot tea for his visitor.
“I have found the secret in lighting other candles”, the rich man said, and he told his true story that day, leaving nothing out.
In the evening the boy said:
“Thou hast truly become a Knight of the Order of the Heart. Arise Sir Knight”.

Thus was born the “Order of the Knights of the Heart”.

The rich man returned to the city and after one year he again came to see the boy by the sea.
“You have taught me well”, the rich man said to the boy.
“Thine heart hast taught thee”
“The secret I found and the peace I had has gone”, the rich man said.
“The truth of thine heart beeth not one thing. Like skins of an onion, it has many layers.” The boy replied.
“Thine visits have taught me much”, the boy said, “I thank thee for thine teaching.”
The boy took off his coat threw it in the fire and said: “I too, have run from the truth of mine heart. It is time for me to return”.

Then the rich man remained in the cave by the sea and the boy returned to the city of millions of men.
The boy became a man, took a different name and wrought great changes in the world.
But of this many many books are already written by others.
This beeth the chronicle of his beginnings.


29- 30Jun08 Princes Hill, Australia
Heiko Rudolph


  1. Your stories say a lot about you Heiko. :-)

  2. don't all stories tell about their creators ?
    what do they tell YOU though ? :-)