The man on the mountain was having a peaceful day when a pickaxe stabbed his beard.

“Do you mind! Good sir, I am trying to mediate!” He scolded the climber.

“I am so sorry! I didn’t see you there.”

The climber stood before the man on the mountain and bowed slightly. “I come seeking wisdom.”

With a sigh, the man on the mountain stroked his beard like a cat.

“Wisdom in what?”

“I fear my wife is cheating on me.”

“Most people cheat because they’re paying more attention to what they’re missing rather than what they have.” Came a wise reply.

The climber frowned through his goggles.

“Okay… I’ll see if that works.”

The man of the mountain started, “Wait! That’s not what I meant. Oh. He’s gone.”

Some time and a lot of beard stroking later, the man on the mountain was meditating when a grappling hook caught on his beard and gave it an almighty pull.

“OUCH!” The man on the mountain screamed as the climber from before appeared again.

“Oh, heh. Sorry about that. But your advise from before didn’t work.” The climber said, detangling beard from the hook.

“What advice?” The man of the mountain grunted, consoling his poor tatty beard.

“About buying lots of stuff.”

“I said nothing of the sort.” Came a sniff.

“You did! Make her pay attention to what she has! So I bought a boat, and a car, and a hamster-“ the climber ticked off his fingers.

“That’s not what I meant!”

“But we have too much stuff now. What’s your wisdom?”

The man on the mountain gave a sigh.

“Giving is a miracle that can transform the heaviest of hearts.”

The climber frowned again. “Okay.”

The man on the mountain was brushing his beard one tranquil day, when a rope latched onto the handle and yanked it from his hand, taking some beard with it, and sending it right off the cliff.

“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!”

“Terribly sorry, sir.”

A woman was climbing up the cliff, and she held out the brush to him sheepishly.

The man of the mountain snatched it back, consoling his traumatised beard again.

“I come seeking wisdom.”

“Of course you do.”

“My husband has become a serial killer that donates hearts to hospitals.”

The man on the mountain gave the woman a long look.

“Is he about yey high? Wears bronze goggles? Has a grappling hook?”

“How do you know?”

“Wisdom. And horrendous beard nightmares.” He sighed. “I’d better go down this mountain to deal with him.”

“Yes, I think that would be wise.” The woman smiled.