‘The Omnipotent Wizard Who Could Not Be Alone’ is Dr. Michael Laitman’s story about a wizard who created all life and a person within it, and a person’s search for happiness within the world the wizard created.
The Omnipotent Wizard
Who Could Not Be Alone
Do you know why only old people tell stories and legends? It is because legends are the cleverest thing in the world! Everything in the world changes, and only real legends remain. Legends are wisdom, and in order to tell them, one needs to have great knowledge and to see things others do not.
For that, one needs to have lived a lot. That’s why only old people know how to tell legends. As is written in the greatest, oldest magical book, “An old person is someone who has acquired wisdom.”
Children love to hear legends because they have imagination and the brains to envision everything, not just what others see. If a child grows up and still sees what others do not, he becomes wise and clever. He acquires wisdom. And because he sees what others do not, he knows that imagination is real. He remains as a child, a wise child. As is written in the greatest, oldest magical book, The Zohar.
There once was a wizard, great and noble and goodhearted, with all the good qualities usually given to wizards in children’s books. But because he was so goodhearted, he needed to share them all, but he didn’t know who to share them with. He didn’t have anyone to pour his affections on, to play with, to spend time with, to think of. And he also needed to feel wanted, for it is very sad to be alone.
What should he do? He thought he would make a stone, just a small one, but beautiful, and perhaps that would be the answer. “I will stroke the stone and feel there is something constantly by my side. And we will both feel good, because it is very sad to be alone.” He waved his wand—Chak! And in an instant, there was a stone, exactly as he wanted.
He began to stroke the stone, to hug it and talk to it. But the stone did not respond. It remained cold and it did nothing in return. Whatever he did to the stone, it remained the same unfeeling object.
This did not suit the wizard at all. How can the stone not respond?
He tried creating some more stones, then rocks, hills, mountains, land, the earth, the moon, and the galaxy. But they were all the same—nothing. He still felt sad and all alone.
In his sadness, he thought. He thought that instead of stones, he would make a plant, a plant that would blossom beautifully. He would water it, give it air, some sun, play it some music, and the plant would be happy. Then they would both be content, because it’s sad to be alone.
He waved his wand—Chak! And in an instant, there was the plant, exactly as he wanted. He was so happy, he began to dance around it. But the plant did not move. It did not dance with him or follow his movements. It only responded to what the wizard gave it, in the simplest terms.
If he gave it water, it grew. If he did not, it died. It was not enough for such a good-hearted wizard who wanted to give all his heart.
He had to do something more, because it is very sad to be alone. So he created all sorts of plants in every kind of size: fields, forests, orchards, plantations, and groves. But they all behaved the same way as the first flower. And again, he was alone in his sadness.
The wizard thought and thought. What should he do? Create an animal! But what sort of animal? A dog? Yes, a cute little dog that would be with me constantly. He would take it for walks and the dog would jump and prance and run along. When he came back to his home, or rather, being a wizard, his castle, the dog would be so pleased to see him, he would run to greet him. They would both be happy, because it is very sad to be alone.
He waved his wand—Chak! And there was a dog, just as he wanted. He began to take care of the dog, fed it, gave it drink, and stroked it. He even ran with it and washed it and took it for walks.
But a dog’s love is summed up in being next to its owner, just in being wherever he is. The wizard was sad to see that the dog could not reciprocate, even if he plays with him so well and goes everywhere with him. A dog cannot be his true friend. It can’t appreciate what he does for it. It doesn’t comprehend his thoughts, desires, and how much trouble he takes for it. But that was what the wizard wanted.
So he made other creatures: fish, fowl, and mammals, all to no avail. None of them understood him. It was very sad to be so alone.
The wizard sat and thought. Then he realized that in order to have a true friend, he must be someone who would look for the wizard, will want him very much, will be like the wizard, able to love him, to understand him and resemble him, to be his partner. Partner, a true friend? He would have to be someone who is close to him, who understands what he gives him, who can reciprocate, and give him everything in return.
Wizards also want to love and be loved. Then they would both be content, because it is very sad to be alone.
The wizard then thought about creating a man. He could be his true friend! He could be like him. He would just need a little help to be like him. And then the two of them would feel good because it’s very sad to be alone.
But in order for them to feel good, he must first feel lonely, and to feel sad without the wizard. To feel how I feel without him, and to know how sad it is to be alone.
The wizard waved his wand again and—Chak! He made a man in the distance. The man did not feel that there was a wizard who had made all the stones, the plants, the hills, the fields, the moon, the rain, the wind, who had made an entire world filled with beautiful things, even computers and football. All these things made him feel good and lack nothing.
The wizard, on the other hand, continued to feel sad that he was alone. The man did not know there was a wizard who had made him, loved him, and was waiting for him. He didn’t know that there was a wizard calling to him.
“Hey! Can’t you see me here? It’s me! I gave you all this! Come to me! It will be so good to be together. It’s so sad to be alone!” But how could a man who feels content, who has everything, even a computer and football, who doesn’t know the wizard, doesn’t want to find him or get acquainted with him, or become close to him, or love him, and be his friend—how can he tell him, “Come, we will both feel good, because it is very sad to be alone, without you”?
A person only knows what is closest to him, and he does what everyone else in his surrounding does. He says what they say, he wants what they want: not to offend, to ask nicely for presents—a computer, football. How can he possibly know there is a wizard who is sad to be alone? How can he possibly know there is a wizard who is sad to be alone?
Still, the wizard is good-hearted and he constantly looks out for man. And when the time is right, he waves his wand and calls to the man’s heart very quietly—Chak! And he can no longer be fulfilled by all those things. Man thinks he’s looking for something and does not realize it’s the wizard who is calling him, “Come, we will both feel good, because it is very sad to be alone without you.”
Then the wizard waves his wand again, and the man feels him. He begins to think of him, to think that it would be good together, because it’s very sad to be alone, without the wizard.
Another wave of the wand and the man feels there is a magic tower full of goodness and might in which the wizard waits for him, and only there will they feel good, because it is so sad to be alone.
“But where is this tower? How can he reach it? What is the way?” he asks himself, puzzled and confused. How can he meet the wizard? Chak! Chak! He keeps feeling the wave of the wand in his heart and he can’t sleep. He constantly sees wizards and mighty towers, and he can’t even eat.
That is what happens when a person wants something very much and cannot find it. It is so sad to be alone. But in order to be like the wizard—wise, great, noble, good-hearted, and a loving friend, a wave of the wand is not enough. A man must learn to make wonders himself.
So the wizard secretly—Chak! Subtly—Chak! Gently—Chak! Leads the man to the greatest, oldest magical book, The Book of Zohar, and he shows him the way to the mighty tower. The man grasps it to swiftly meet the wizard, to meet a friend, and to tell him, “Come, we will feel good together, because it is very sad to be alone.”
But around the wizard’s castle, there is a great wall, and the more the man climbs, the rougher he is thrown back by the guards. The fall is painful, and he cries out to the wizard: “Where is your wisdom? Why are you making me suffer? Why have you made the way to you so painful for me?”
And every time the man weakens and despairs, he suddenly feels—Chak! A wave of the wand, and he rushes to the walls again, and he tries to circumvent the guards no matter what. He wants to break into the gates, reach the tower, climb the rungs of the ladder, and reach the wizard.
With each round, the man becomes braver, stronger, and wiser. He learns to do all kinds of tricks himself, to invent things only a wizard can. Every time he’s pushed back, he wants the wizard more, feels his love for him more, and wants more than anything else in the world to be with the wizard, to see his face—because it will be good to be together. And even if he is given everything in the world, without the wizard, he feels utterly alone.
Then, when he can no longer bear to be without him, the gates of the tower open, and the wizard, his wizard, lovingly comes to meet him and says, “Come, we will be good together, because now we both know how sad it is to be alone.”
From that moment, they became faithful friends, never to be separated. And love fulfilled them both. There is no finer pleasure than that between fellow men, forever and to infinity. They feel so good together that they never remember even for a moment, how sad it was to be alone.
So if in your heart, you feel this—Chak! Chak! Listen to it very carefully, and you will hear in it the call of the wizard, and feel how very great and important it is to come to him. For only then will you be happy.