Once it happened…
Aristotle, the father of modern logic, the intellectual giant of ancient Greece, was
walking on the beach. A glorious sunset was before him, but he had no time for such petty
occurrences.
He was thinking seriously about some great problem of existence. For the
intellectual mind, existence is always a problem, and Aristotle was out to solve it.
Lost in
solemn thought, he paced up and down the beach.
There was another man on the beach who was doing something very intensely—so
intensely that after a while even Aristotle noticed him. Those who are immersed in their own
psychological realities usually end up ignoring life around them. They seldom have the eyes
to look at a flower, a sunset, a child, or a smiling face. And if it is an unsmiling face, they
have no inclination to make it smile; they have no such small duties or minor cares in the
world!
They are too busy cracking the great puzzles of existence.
But this man’s intensity was such that even Aristotle could not ignore him. On close
observation he noticed that this man kept going to the ocean and returning, with great single-
mindedness of purpose.
Aristotle paused in his reflections to inquire, “What exactly are you up to?”
The man said, “Please don’t disturb me, I am doing something very important.” He
continued with his work with furious intensity.
Aristotle’s curiosity was piqued. He asked again, “But what are you doing?”
The man said, “Don’t disturb me. It is very important.”
Aristotle said, “What is this important thing?”
The man showed him a little hole he had dug in the sand, and said, “I am emptying the
ocean into this hole.” He had a tablespoon in his hand.
Aristotle looked at this and laughed. Now, Aristotle is the kind who can spend a whole year
without a single chuckle. It takes a heart to laugh. The intellect cannot laugh; it can only
dissect.
But even Aristotle laughed at this and said, “This is ridiculous! You must be insane. Do you
know how vast this ocean is? How can you ever empty this ocean into this little hole? And
above all, with a tablespoon? At least if you had a bucket, you might have stood some chance!
Please give this up. This is utter madness.”
The man looked at Aristotle, threw the spoon down, and said, “My job is already done.”
Aristotle said, “What do you mean? Forget about the ocean being empty; even the hole is
not full. How is your job done?”
The other man stood up and said, “I am trying to empty the ocean into this hole with a
tablespoon. You are telling me it is madness. But what are you trying to do? Do you know how
vast this existence is? It can contain a billion oceans like this and more, and you are trying to
empty it into the small hole of your head—and with what? With tablespoons called thoughts!
Please give it up. It’s utterly ridiculous.”
The other man was Heraclitus, the other great Greek philosopher. In a flash, he showed
Aristotle what a crippled existence he was leading by attempting to extend his logic to every
aspect of life.
If you want to know the experiential dimensions of life, you will never know them with the
petty process of thought. Even if you have the brain of an Einstein, your thought process is
still outclassed because thought cannot be bigger than life.
Thought can only be logical,
functioning between two polarities. If you want to know life in its immensity, you need
something more than the intellect.
This is the fundamental choice you have: either you learn to live with creation, or you
manufacture your own creation in your head.
Which option do you want to exercise?
Aristotle, the father of modern logic, the intellectual giant of ancient Greece, was
walking on the beach. A glorious sunset was before him, but he had no time for such petty
occurrences.
He was thinking seriously about some great problem of existence. For the
intellectual mind, existence is always a problem, and Aristotle was out to solve it.
Lost in
solemn thought, he paced up and down the beach.
There was another man on the beach who was doing something very intensely—so
intensely that after a while even Aristotle noticed him. Those who are immersed in their own
psychological realities usually end up ignoring life around them. They seldom have the eyes
to look at a flower, a sunset, a child, or a smiling face. And if it is an unsmiling face, they
have no inclination to make it smile; they have no such small duties or minor cares in the
world!
They are too busy cracking the great puzzles of existence.
But this man’s intensity was such that even Aristotle could not ignore him. On close
observation he noticed that this man kept going to the ocean and returning, with great single-
mindedness of purpose.
Aristotle paused in his reflections to inquire, “What exactly are you up to?”
The man said, “Please don’t disturb me, I am doing something very important.” He
continued with his work with furious intensity.
Aristotle’s curiosity was piqued. He asked again, “But what are you doing?”
The man said, “Don’t disturb me. It is very important.”
Aristotle said, “What is this important thing?”
The man showed him a little hole he had dug in the sand, and said, “I am emptying the
ocean into this hole.” He had a tablespoon in his hand.
Aristotle looked at this and laughed. Now, Aristotle is the kind who can spend a whole year
without a single chuckle. It takes a heart to laugh. The intellect cannot laugh; it can only
dissect.
But even Aristotle laughed at this and said, “This is ridiculous! You must be insane. Do you
know how vast this ocean is? How can you ever empty this ocean into this little hole? And
above all, with a tablespoon? At least if you had a bucket, you might have stood some chance!
Please give this up. This is utter madness.”
The man looked at Aristotle, threw the spoon down, and said, “My job is already done.”
Aristotle said, “What do you mean? Forget about the ocean being empty; even the hole is
not full. How is your job done?”
The other man stood up and said, “I am trying to empty the ocean into this hole with a
tablespoon. You are telling me it is madness. But what are you trying to do? Do you know how
vast this existence is? It can contain a billion oceans like this and more, and you are trying to
empty it into the small hole of your head—and with what? With tablespoons called thoughts!
Please give it up. It’s utterly ridiculous.”
The other man was Heraclitus, the other great Greek philosopher. In a flash, he showed
Aristotle what a crippled existence he was leading by attempting to extend his logic to every
aspect of life.
If you want to know the experiential dimensions of life, you will never know them with the
petty process of thought. Even if you have the brain of an Einstein, your thought process is
still outclassed because thought cannot be bigger than life.
Thought can only be logical,
functioning between two polarities. If you want to know life in its immensity, you need
something more than the intellect.
This is the fundamental choice you have: either you learn to live with creation, or you
manufacture your own creation in your head.
Which option do you want to exercise?