A fable is a short tale that delivers a moral lesson, often with animals or inanimate objects as characters. The Circus Monkey teaches us the value of staying committed to something we really want, even when other people and situations conspire to make us give up.
Sometimes we hit rough spots in meditation and are tempted to give it up in favor of a quicker fix, but if we sit through our discomfort mindfully, we find that it always passes and that pleasant experience of equanimity returns.
Enjoy this fable. See what you think all the characters and situations represent. Look closely at the old man, his lovely wife, the loyal dog Mr. Brown, the circus, the monkey Beauty, the organ grinder and the gold coins.
Once there was a kind and melancholic old man who lived in a clean white house at the edge of town by a wide green field. The circus made its home there for two weeks every spring. The man always watched in amazement while the roustabouts scurried around erecting gigantic and towering red, white and blue tents. In just a few hours the empty field turned into a magic playground.
The old man made sure to be right in front of the ticket window every morning before dawn. As soon as the wide steel gates to the midway swung open, he rushed in like a child at Christmas. He feasted his eyes and ears on the wondrous animals, the bright face paint of the laughing clowns and the beautiful girls on the “Darlings of the Amazon” stage. His heart beat fast with youthful curiosity as he handed in his tickets to see the “World’s Fattest Horse” and tried to win a giant stuffed panda by throwing a ping-pong ball into a glass of water. He laughed when he missed and the circus man working the booth laughed, too.
The circus’ intoxicating sights and sounds made the old man forget his loneliness. Long ago his beautiful young wife grew very ill. No medicine could save her and neither could his deep and true devotion to their love. One morning she told him it was time for her to go. She whispered in his ear, “This is not the end of you and me. You will find me again in another body in another place, but you must be very careful. There are many imposters who would pretend to care for you and steal your honest heart. Find me again, love, oh please come find me again. I will wait for you.” Then with a sweet last breath that smelled of roses and honey, she stopped living. He watched her soul rise up into the air as her body turned still in his arms.
He remembered her last words and opened his heart many times hoping to find that love, only to be betrayed. As he aged, the search wearied him but also make him wiser. He learned to recognize the behavior of imposters, their too-eagerness, their flirtiness and their effusive promises of everlasting love that never came true. With time came desperation and despair. He feared he would die and never find her. He lived reclusively, filling his days with study of esoteric, soulful books about meaning and meaninglessness. He adopted a great brown dog almost as big as a small pony.
He named the dog Mr. Brown, and they became inseparable. Mr. Brown’s 
tireless taste for exploring breathed new life into the old man. They journeyed together for days deep into the hills and mountains. At night by the firelight, the old man would sometimes weep remembering his lovely wife. Whenever the old man’s tears started to fall, Mr. Brown rested his substantial head on the man’s lap and made hound talk. The old man listened hopefully when Mr. Brown said, “You are coming near to your beloved wife’s energy again, and you must be careful. Some things feel like love, but they aren’t. Watch closely now, and don’t get fooled.”
Mr. Brown loved to go to the circus with the old man and sniffed a million enticing smells of exotic animals from strange lands, but he stopped sniffing and sat bolt upright when they reached the old man’s favorite act. There in a bright red curtained stage beside the petting zoo was the organ grinder’s sweet girl monkey named Beauty. Every year Beauty wore a colorful new skirt, a different shiny blouse and a funny-feathered cap tied to her round little head with a yellow bow.
Beauty remembered the old man year after year, and her greetings warmed his heart. She could see him coming even before he reached the edge of her little stage. She strained at the end of her leash chattering out in monkey talk, “My friend, my sweet! Oh, I have missed you so!”
The old man always returned her affection by dropping gold coins from his secret savings box into her shiny silver cup as a reward at the end of her act. She loved to hold the precious shiny coins in her little hands and toss them up in the air with a clinging sound. One year the organ grinder said Beauty had learned many new and wonderful tricks. He told the old man to be sure to show up every day ready to watch the tricks and drop some extra coins in Beauty’s cup.
On the first day, Beauty performed the most amazing new trick. She jumped ten straight up into the air, flipped over twice and landed standing upside down on the little monkey fingers of her right hand. The old man gasped with joy and gave her two coins instead of one. The organ grinder told the old man that tomorrow’s trick would be even better and that he could show his appreciation by giving Beauty more gold. The old man crawled into bed that night too excited to sleep. Mr. Brown nestled up against him and kept an eye out for any approaching bad dreams. The old man slipped into a deep slumber with one arm lying over the great dog’s broad neck.
On the second day, the organ grinder shooed all the other circus customers away so Beauty could do a daring private trick for the old man. It was more than ten times better than the twirling upside down handstand from the day before. Beauty actually pulled a huge red banner out of her left ear and waved it back and forth faster and faster until it crackled like fireworks and she lifted up into the air. Then a brilliant rainbow of yellow, blue and red shot out of her forehead and formed a bridge to shiny bronze star on top of the tallest big top tent. Beauty danced back and forth on the edge of the rainbow singing bits from famous love songs until she ran out of lyrics and came back down to her stage.
The old man gasped in astonishment again and gave Beauty three coins. Beauty reached out her tiny brown hands, took one of the old man’s hands in hers and stroked his palm softly. Then she kissed his fingers and made sweet chittering sounds. The old man’s heart swelled and the organ grinder smiled.
Mr. Brown just sat there watching.
Every day for a week Beauty’s tricks grew more amazing and daring. She ran into the lion’s cage and sat in the beast’s mouth playing a tiny harmonica. She pulled the giant Burmese python out of its cage by the tail, tucked its tail its mouth to form a huge scaly hula-hoop and rolled it right across the promenade into the ringmaster’s private tent. She shaved off half of the bearded lady’s hair with a gold razor and decorated the other half with silk ribbons.
One morning the organ grinder said Beauty was too tired to do tricks. The little animal came out and danced a half-hearted jig with her shoulders slumped and her eyes cast down. Her friendly, excited chatter had disappeared. She just frowned when she held out her cup. The old man wished he could talk to Beauty like he did to Mr. Brown, but he didn’t speak monkey, and she wasn’t human. He just rubbed her head softly. He put four gold coins in the cup to try to cheer her up. He walked home worried about his little friend, which reminded him of Mr. Brown’s admonition that the reunion with his long dead loving wife might be near. Mr. Brown read his mind and said, “Have faith.” He had not met a new wife at the circus yet, and Beauty was his only joy.
The next day Beauty barely even moved. The organ grinder had to tug at Beauty’s leash to get her to stand up. She just hunched there listless. The old man patted her softly on the head and said, “What’s the matter, my dear little friend? Why are you so sad? You are my special friend, and I want to help.” The organ grinder smirked and reminded the old man that Beauty was only a monkey and certainly didn’t understand a word of what he was saying. The old man’s supply of coins was running low but since he really loved Beauty, he dropped a half-dozen more in the cup.
One afternoon Beauty was so tired she could only lay in the shade. The organ grinder told the old man that special monkey medicine would make the little girl perky again. A wild animal trader could supply it the next morning, for a price. It cost more coins than the old man could carry in his pockets, but he didn’t think twice. He had to save Beauty. He prayed for her all night long and at dawn the next morning took the last of his gold coins from a carved rosewood wood box he kept hidden in his attic. He put them in an old leather bag and rushed back to the circus as fast as he could with the heavy bag thudding against his sides and Mr. Brown jogging along beside him.
The old man was huffing and puffing when he arrived at Beauty’s tent. She was nowhere to be seen, but the organ grinder stood right there. He told the old man Beauty died during the night. The old man’s heart froze. Salty tears of hot grief ran down his cheeks like rain. He bit his lip so he wouldn’t wail. “Oh, no! Not again!” his breaking heart thought. He stared up in the sky and wondered why he kept losing everything he loved.
The organ grinder did not seem to care about the old man’s grief. His voice sounded flat and state. He said the best solution was to use the remaining gold coins to buy a new monkey and train it to perform. He reached out in a flash to grab the leather bag, but Mr. Brown erupted with ferocious growls, leaping forward and snapping at his hands with huge white teeth. The old man clutched the bag close to his chest at the same time, back stepping fast and still wracked with sobbing tears for Beauty. Then he slowly turned around on his heels and started the long trudge back home with Mr. Brown.
The organ grinder chased the old man a few steps, then shouted out, “Wait! Stop! We can get a new one! She was just a monkey. Just a stupid trained animal. It’s not like she was anything special!” the grinder exclaimed.
Clutching the little bit that remained of his fortune, the old man kept walking, wiping away his tears and trying to shut out organ grinder’s ugly words. He even thought of going back to punch the organ grinder in the nose, when his ears caught the soft whisper of a different voice that made his heart fill with love. He remembered it so well. It was the voice of his long lost beautiful wife. It sang about the bold sweetness of proud, enchanted love, yet she was nowhere to be seen.
The voice came from his loyal dog, Mr. Brown, whose strong body began to shimmer and glow. The old man stood transfixed as the dog stood up on his two hind legs. His prominent muzzle slowly receded into an angelic human face as his four rugged limbs softened into shapely feminine arms and legs with graceful wrists and ankles as white as alabaster. Mr. Brown’s tight coarse hair melted into flowing blonde locks that cascaded gently onto the soft white shoulders of the beloved woman the old man had loved to kiss and touch.
The old man shut his eyes tight in disbelief, hoping this was a real miracle and not just the hopeful fantasy of a broken heart. He could not stand the darkness long, and when he opened his eyes, there stood his love. She radiated the sweet saving grace that only committed love can bring to life. Mr. Brown’s heavy leather leash dropped from her shoulders to the ground and she stepped over it with delicate bare feet, reaching for the old man’s hands.
“Here I am, my love. I told you I would wait for you. Let’s go home now, just you and I. That was not our circus, and we are no one’s monkeys.”
THE END
About Michael Hoffman
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