I knew there were many interesting sights, but I didn’t want any more of the little answers, I wanted the big answer. So I asked the guestmaster to show me directly to the House of God.
I sat myself down, quite willing to wait for the big answer. I remained silent all day, far into the night. I looked Him in the eye. I guess He was looking me in the eye. Late, late at night I seemed to hear a voice: “What are you leaving out?” I looked around. I heard it again. “What are you leaving out?” Was it my imagination? Soon it was all around me, whispering, roaring, “What are you leaving out? What are you leaving out?”
Was I cracking up? I managed to get to my feet and head for the door. I wanted the comfort of a human face or a human voice. Nearby was the corridor where some of the monks live. I knocked on one cell.
“What do you want?” came a sleepy voice.
“What am I leaving out?”
“Me,” he answered.
I went to the next door. “What do you want?”
“What am I leaving out?”
“Me.”
A third cell, a fourth, all the same.
I thought, “They’re all stuck on themselves.” I left the building in disgust. Just then the sun was coming up. I had never spoken to the sun before, but I heard myself pleading, “What am I leaving out?”
The sun too answered, “Me.” That finished me.
I threw myself on the ground. And the earth said, “Me too.”
Which “me” is being left out? Does everything belong in God?