By Tim Porteus

THERE are few beaches more beautiful than Gullane Bents – a wide sandy curve lined with a wall of sea buckthorn, which hides the world behind.

If you are lucky enough to be on the beach alone, you could almost imagine you are on a desert island.

It was here, on this sandy beach, that a man was walking his dog. He was not in a good mood; work was a nightmare, someone had scratched his car, money was tight, anger seemed to constantly lap at the edge of his thoughts.

Suddenly his dog ran up to him joyfully to greet him.

The dog had been in the sea and in his haste to greet his master he’d forgotten to dry himself. So he now did so, shaking his body and unintentionally spraying his master with some sea water.

The man exploded in rage, screaming at the dog so loudly that the dog for a moment became scared of the man he loved.

It was like a firestorm in the man’s brain. He couldn’t reason that the dog hadn’t done anything wrong, the man was controlled by his rage.

He took hold of the dog’s collar and roughly fastened it to the lead.

“That’s it, end of your walk,” he said angrily.

He held the lead tightly and stormed back towards the car park, with his bewildered dog wondering why his master was punishing him in this way.

The dog cowered in the back of the car as the man, still with rage running through his body, drove home.

He screamed at another driver for going too slow and when he got home his dog scampered immediately to his basket, knowing to keep out of the way of his master when he was in such a mood.

A few days later, the man was with his son. They went to an event together, where there was a storyteller.

They both listened to the story, it was a version of an ancient tale:

One day a fisherman found a genie’s lamp in the sand.

Smiling to himself, he rubbed it, not really believing anything would happen.

But it did. In a torrent of wind, a genie flew out of the lamp. The huge creature stretched his arms and back with relief, for he had been stuck in the small lamp for a long time.

The fisherman smiled. “Do I get my three wishes now?” he asked.

But the genie glowered at him and yelled: “No you most certainly do NOT, I am going to kill you!”

The fisherman was confused: “Why, what have I done except free you from your confinement?”

“I have been squashed in that lamp for 400 years!

“All that time people ignored me, didn’t help me, nobody came to free me. I got angrier and angrier.

“After 100 years, I decided I’d only give two wishes, but then I got more angry and after 200 years I decided I’d only give one wish.

“But still I was left there with my anger. So after 300 years, I was so angry I decided nobody was going to get a wish from me. But I had to endure yet another 100 years and so my anger tuned to rage.

“Now I’m free, I can unleash my rage and I’m going to kill you! It will make me feel better.”

“But,” protested the fisherman, “I am not responsible for those 400 years, I am the one who freed you.”

“My rage does not care,” roared the genie.

But the fisherman was quick-witted.

“OK, I understand you are very angry, but is it really true that you are able to fit in that tiny lamp. I mean, look how big you are, I don’t believe that is possible.”

The genie insisted it was true, so the fisherman asked him to prove it by showing him before killing him.

“Very well, then I will kill you,” said the genie, who swirled into mist and re-entered the lamp.

“See, I told you,” came a voice from inside the lamp, but before the genie could get out, the fisherman closed the lid and put a stone on it.

“Now I will rebury you and you can spend another 400 years in there,” said the fisherman.

But as he dug a hole in the sand, he heard weeping. It was coming from the lamp.

“Please,” said the genie trapped in the lamp, “please let me out.

“My anger was trapped with me for 400 years, growing and growing. I understand now that I was wrong to unleash it on you, for none of it was your fault. Indeed, it was no one’s fault except providence.”

“How can I be sure your anger will not once again be unleashed on me,” said the fisherman.

“Because I have spoken of it, acknowledged it and understood its power. And I will not allow it to speak for me. Please let me out and I will grant you your wishes.”

The fisherman was unsure but he felt sorry for the genie, whose weeping seemed genuine. So he took off the stone and lifted the lid, allowing the genie out.

“I have been in there for four minutes!” smiled the genie, “And I am glad to be free. What are the things you would like to wish for?”

And so the storyteller ended his tale with the question of what the audience would wish for.

The man returned home with his son. His dog ran up to greet them both. The dog held no grudges but the man hugged and stroked the dog he loved, and apologised. Then he hugged his son, who was his life.

“Sometimes I think I’m like that genie stuck in the lamp,” he said to his boy, “and when you free me I’m often not as happy with you as I should be. But like the genie, I will learn the lesson of speaking of it and try not to get stuck in a small place with my anger.”

They had a cosy night, all three watching a movie; what else, Aladdin! And the man kept his word to change, just as the genie had in the story.