The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari

he told me that he grew anxious. "But it was those good kind of
jitters, like the ones I had on prom night or right before an excit-
ing case began and the media was chasing me up the courtroom
steps. And even though I didn't have the benefit of a guide or a
map, the way was clear and a thin, lightly travelled path led me
higher into the deepest reaches of those mountains. It was like I
had some sort of inner compass, nudging me gently towards my
destination. I don't think I could have stopped climbing even if I
had wanted to," Julian was excited, his words spilling out like a
gushing mountain stream after the rains.
As he travelled for two more days along the route that he
prayed would take him to Sivana, Julian's thoughts wandered
back to his former life. Though he felt entirely liberated from the
stress and strain that personified his former world, he did wonder
whether he could really spend the rest of his days without the
intellectual challenge that the legal profession had offered him
since he left Harvard Law School. His thoughts then wandered
back to his oak-paneled office in a glittering downtown skyscraper
and the idyllic summer home he had sold for a pittance. He
thought about his old friends with whom he would frequent the
finest of restaurants in the most glamorous locales. He also
thought about his prized Ferrari and how his heart would soar
when he gunned the engine and all its ferocity sprang to life with
a roar.
As he ventured deeper into the depths of this mystical place,
his reflections of the past were quickly interrupted by the stun-
ning marvels of the moment. It was while he was soaking in the
gifts of nature's intelligence that something startling happened.
From the corner of his eye he saw another figure, dressed
strangely in a long, flowing red robe topped by a dark blue hood,