An old monk was riding a donkey down the mountain, when he saw a young man pulling a horse up the same road. “Young man, what are you doing?” The young man did not look up but continued to pull as he said, “This is a horse name “Religion.” My father gave it to me when I was a child. He told me to never leave it behind.”

Seeing that the poor horse was dead, the monk dismounted and said, “Young man, I knew your father. You have misunderstood what he told you. The name of the horse you are to ride is “life.” It will lift you up, it will carry you. When you find yourself protecting what you call “religion,” it is already dead. “

The young man finally stopped his dragging and panted, “But if the horse isn’t named “Religion,” what did my father mean?” “Your father knew this horse would die someday,” replied the monk. “He wanted you to find another horse named “Life” that fills you with excitement. “Religion” is not the name of horse, it is the name of the saddle that allows you to stay on your steed.”