My hands were full, but the mustard seed looked so tempting. The man was giving them out for free, and how could I refuse a bargain like that? True, the seed did not look nearly so attractive as the precious gems that I was already carrying around. I could only carry so much, so I had to be discerning. I had already discarded everything but the most beautiful and valuable treasures, and I had hardly enough strength to carry even those.
But the seed was so small, and the man made it sound so good. And it was free. I was sure that I could make just a little space, just a little more space for the mustard seed. So, I jammed it in there, just between the sparkle and the shine of my treasures.
Years passed, and sometimes some of the treasure changed. I would exchange something I had for something that was even more valuable, and then on rare occasions I would exchange it back again. But the mustard seed I never gave away. It stayed there. It was so small that I always had room for it, and it did give me some comfort having it there. Like a lucky charm, it gave me some peace and some calm in times when I needed it. The man had been right about that.
Then one day I met a man carrying nothing but a bush. He looked so out-of-place, so silly in the world in which I moved; the world of the valuable and the beautiful. I asked him about the bush.
“This grew from my mustard seed,” he told me.
“I have a mustard seed too!” I said. “But it is just a seed, and always has been.”
“I used to be like you,” the man said, “my mustard seed didn’t grow either. Then I realised that while my hands were full it couldn’t grow. No room, you see. It needs space.”
“But, that would mean letting go of my treasure!”
The man looked grim, as he nodded.
“But I wouldn’t know where to begin. Which one should I put down first?”
“You can do it that way,” the man agreed, “but it's better to let everything go at once. If you want the bush, you’ll have to let it all go eventually.”