Megaraptor149
He/Him- 2,006
- 701
Does this qualify for a 1-A through Reality-Fiction??
"If they come upon one who still has not seen it and they speak to him of
fire, he does not know what they mean. So they, in turn, fall back upon
telling him what fire is like. As they do so, they know from their own
experience that what they are telling him is not the truth, but only a part of
it. They know that this man will never know reality from their words,
though all the words in the world are theirs to use. He must look upon the
fire, smell of it, warm his hands by it, stare into its heart, or remain forever
ignorant. Therefore, 'fire' does not matter, 'earth' and 'air' and 'water' do not
matter. 'I' do not matter. No word matters. But man forgets reality and
remembers words. The more words he remembers, the cleverer do his
fellows esteem him. He looks upon the great transformations of the world,
but he does not see them as they were seen when man looked upon reality
for the first time. Their names come to his lips and he smiles as he tastes
them, thinking he knows them in the naming. The thing that has never
happened before is still happening. It is still a miracle. The great burning
blossom squats, flowing, upon the limb of the world, excreting the ash of
the world, and being none of these things I have named and at the same
time all of them, and this is reality—the Nameless.
"Therefore, I charge you—forget the names you bear, forget the words I
speak as soon as they are uttered. Look, rather, upon the Nameless within
yourselves, which arises as I address it. It hearkens not to my words, but to
the reality within me, of which it is part. This is the atman, which hears me
rather than my words. All else is unreal. To define is to lose. The essence of
all things is the Nameless. The Nameless is unknowable, mightier even than Brahma. Things pass, but the essence remains. You sit, therefore, in the midst of a dream.
"Essence dreams it a dream of form. Forms pass, but the essence remains,
dreaming new dreams. Man names these dreams and thinks to have
captured the essence, not knowing that he invokes the unreal. These stones,
these walls, these bodies you see seated about you are poppies and water
and the sun. They are the dreams of the Nameless. They are fire, if you like.
"If they come upon one who still has not seen it and they speak to him of
fire, he does not know what they mean. So they, in turn, fall back upon
telling him what fire is like. As they do so, they know from their own
experience that what they are telling him is not the truth, but only a part of
it. They know that this man will never know reality from their words,
though all the words in the world are theirs to use. He must look upon the
fire, smell of it, warm his hands by it, stare into its heart, or remain forever
ignorant. Therefore, 'fire' does not matter, 'earth' and 'air' and 'water' do not
matter. 'I' do not matter. No word matters. But man forgets reality and
remembers words. The more words he remembers, the cleverer do his
fellows esteem him. He looks upon the great transformations of the world,
but he does not see them as they were seen when man looked upon reality
for the first time. Their names come to his lips and he smiles as he tastes
them, thinking he knows them in the naming. The thing that has never
happened before is still happening. It is still a miracle. The great burning
blossom squats, flowing, upon the limb of the world, excreting the ash of
the world, and being none of these things I have named and at the same
time all of them, and this is reality—the Nameless.
"Therefore, I charge you—forget the names you bear, forget the words I
speak as soon as they are uttered. Look, rather, upon the Nameless within
yourselves, which arises as I address it. It hearkens not to my words, but to
the reality within me, of which it is part. This is the atman, which hears me
rather than my words. All else is unreal. To define is to lose. The essence of
all things is the Nameless. The Nameless is unknowable, mightier even than Brahma. Things pass, but the essence remains. You sit, therefore, in the midst of a dream.
"Essence dreams it a dream of form. Forms pass, but the essence remains,
dreaming new dreams. Man names these dreams and thinks to have
captured the essence, not knowing that he invokes the unreal. These stones,
these walls, these bodies you see seated about you are poppies and water
and the sun. They are the dreams of the Nameless. They are fire, if you like.
