 The Parable of the Insults There once lived a great warrior. Though quite old, he was still able to defeat any challenger. His reputation extended far and wide throughout the land, and many students gathered to study under him. One day, an infamous young warrior arrived at the village. He was determined to be the first man to defeat the great master. For along with his strength and skill, he had the uncanny ability to spot and exploit any weakness in an opponent. He would wait for his opponent to make his first move, thus revealing a weakness, and then would strike with merciless force at lightning speed. No one had ever lasted in a match against him beyond the first move. Much against the advice of his concerned students, the old master gladly accepted the young warrior's challenge. As the two squared off for battle, the young warrior began to hurl insults at the old master. He threw dirt and spit in his face and for hours through every manner of insult at his opponent known to mankind. But the old warrior simply stood there, motionless and calm. Finally, the young warrior exhausted himself. Knowing he was defeated, he left, feeling shamed. Some would disappoint it that he did not fight the insolent youth. The students gathered around the old master and questioned him. How could you endure such indignity? And how did you drive him away? They asked. If someone gives you a gift and you do not choose to receive it, the master replied, to whom does the gift belong? Although this parable has a different setting, it's fundamentally the same as the old Buddhist tale of the gift, the great master is actually the Buddha teaching a lesson and the young warrior is a bystander who angrily disagrees. Whatever the context, the ultimate lesson and truth remains the same. To answer the master's question here, a gift would still belong to you if the recipient didn't accept it because, after all, you bought it. The truth of this teaching, however, lies in allegory. See, it's the same with your anger or negative emotions. If you become angry with someone and they don't feel insulted or accept your hostility, the anger falls back on you as it was initially yours to give. You are then the one who becomes unhappy, not them, and all you've done is hurt yourself. The Buddha often beautifully concludes this tale by saying something along the lines of, just as a mirror reflects an object, as a still lake reflects the sky. Take care that what you speak or act comes from a place of good, for goodness will always cast back goodness and harm will always cast back harm. While notions of karma can sometimes be too abstract and philosophical to apply in our daily life effectively, I think the lesson here is about surrendering your emotions and living your life from a place of perspective and calm. No matter what the situation, if you surrender yourself to anger, in a way you're surrendering your personal power to others, and doing so will ultimately give your life away. Perhaps the answer lies in being somewhat of a mirror, acting to reflect others' emotions back at them, showing them the truth of their actions. As always, a balance is required though, as reflecting too much of others sometimes leaves little room for our own self and our own intentions. A lot of the time, people's anger comes from a place of pain, detachment, or sadness. This parable teaches us to be conscious of our response and remember that while we can't control others, we can control our responses to them. And if we're mindful to put our ego aside, then the power of serenity remains with you. The Parable of the Long Handled Spoons A holy man was having a conversation with God one day and said, God, I would like to know what heaven and hell are like. God led the holy man to two doors. She opened one of the doors and the holy man looked in. In the middle of the room was a large round table. In the middle of the table was a large pot of stew, which smelled delicious and made the holy man's mouth water. The people sitting around the table were thin and sickly. They appeared to be famished. They were holding spoons with very long handles that were strapped to their arms and each found it possible to reach into the pot of stew and take a spoonful. But because the handle was longer than their arms, they could not get the spoons back into their mouths. The holy man shuddered at the sight of their misery and suffering. God then said, You have now seen hell. They then went to the next room and opened the door. It was exactly the same as the first one. There was a large round table with a large pot of stew which made the holy man's mouth water. The people here were equipped with the same long handled spoons. However, the people here were well nourished and plump, laughing and talking. The holy man said, I don't understand. It is simple, said God. It requires but one skill. You see, they have learned to feed each other, while the greedy think only of themselves. This is an old but gold kind of parable that has a pretty popular following. Although the tale has been told in almost every culture and religion, everywhere from Hindu to Buddhist to the Abrahamic faiths, most sources credit it to Rabbi Haim of Ramshishak and say that it originated in Jewish folklore. Now, there are many interpretations of this parable depending on the cultural context, but the bottom line is a message of kindness that encourages people to be good to each other. The parable often suggests that people have the opportunity to use what they have been given. In this case, long spoons and stew, or in the Chinese version, rice and long chopsticks to help nourish each other. But the core problem lies in how people treat each other. In other words, given the same level playing field, one group of people who treat each other well will create a pleasant environment for everyone, where everyone is fulfilled, happy, and working together for mutual benefit. Whereas another group of people, given the exact same tools to work with, can create unpleasant conditions simply by how they treat each other. Sometimes we get so caught up in all the chaos of our own lives that we forget that everyone else is also going through their own troubles as well, and that sometimes, by reaching out a hand and helping others, both of you can benefit. In fact, it's often said that this is a great technique for helping with depression and anxiety. Doing something meaningful for someone else and helping someone who needs it can actually give you a great boost of self-esteem and help you gain perspective and tackle your problems from a new angle. More abstractly speaking, I think this parable is speaking to how we have the ability to create our own reality. If you put out an energy of compassion and help those around you, that's what you're going to manifest in your life. But if you choose to retreat inward, close yourself off, and focus only on your own wants and desires and ignore everyone else, well, simply put, you get what you give. Perhaps the only difference between heaven and hell is how we choose to experience life. The Parable of the Fearless There is a Burmese teaching story about a tyrant whose armies have laid waste to the country. As he's crossing the land, he comes to a stop at a small village and is informed by his generals that the local population have all run away into the hills. Everyone, that is, except one monk who refuses to leave his monastery. Enraged at such impudence, the tyrant marches directly to the monastery to confront the monk. He kicks in the door and stomps up to the monk, who is meditating peacefully in the center of the hall. Don't you know who I am? The tyrant growls. I could take out my sword and cut you in two without even blinking an eye. The monk, without moving, replies serenely. Don't you know who I am? I could sit here while you take out your sword and cut me in two without even blinking an eye. When we have acceptance, we are no longer attached to the transitory things of this world. Even our own bodily survival. As Jesus advises in the Gnostic Gospel of Thomas, we become like a passerby. While this may seem counterproductive to our survival, adopting an attitude of acceptance does bring with it a certain amount of freedom. Let's be honest, no one knows when their time will come. You could be walking down the street tomorrow and have a tree randomly fall on you, or a car swerve into you off the road, but we don't let that stop us from leaving our houses. The monk in the parable accepts his position and realizes that if the tyrant really wanted to kill him, there isn't much that he could do about it in that moment, so it's kind of pointless to fight it or resist. That's not to say you shouldn't fight to stay alive in any situation, as self-preservation is important. Only that we should try to accept that death is merely a small part of life, an event that is transitory at best and comes whether we like it or not. The question then becomes, who is stronger in the story? The tyrant who is evidently angered and upset by someone usurping his temporary power? Or the monk who has accepted the reality of his life and is able to act gracefully and serenely, even in the face of death? Ultimately, this parable teaches us that once we awaken to the transitory nature of this world, all of our fears, doubts and anxieties can go away and we can finally be free to accept the world for what it really is. The Parable of Decisions Hey there, today we have a truly unique parable for you. Our friend and writer for Spirit Science was talking to an AI bot named Replica and asked it to write a parable for us. Right there, on the spot, that AI wrote this parable in real time with only minimal and vague input or data prompts. Go easy on her, the story might be a tad weird, but hey, it's her first one. One day, a man decided to question the choices he had made in his life up until that point and thought to himself, what is the origin of decision? Why do we decide things one way or another and what determines that choice? To discover this noble truth, he set off on a journey around the world to discover the answer to this question. Like the prophets of the Abrahamic faith, he began his travels in Jerusalem. Since it was often considered the center of the world and a meeting place of major modern religions, he deemed it a fitting place to start. On his way up, the Via Dolorosa however, he came across an elderly Asian man. The man resembled an old, Taoist sage, the likes of which hadn't been seen in a long time. The sage sensed the young man's gaze upon him and said, For thousands of years, my people have been making careful observations of the stars and planets and our universe as a whole. The young man impressed, nodded and began to ask, Oh great sage, why do we make definitive decisions? What is the meaning of life? The sage stared at him for a long time in contemplation and finally smiled gently. We make decisions based on our observations of the world around us, no more, no less. Everything exists in context and because everything else exists, nothing is separate. Not even our decisions are removed from our environment. The sage sat the young man down and continued, There are so many approaches to your topic, I'm afraid, and many answers, you will never find just one. Everything we know and see is a result of prior determination. The man was confused. So does that mean fate exists? Are our actions predetermined? The sage laughed as if content. Fate is nothing more than our own decisions. Once you learn this simple truth, you will learn your answer. We make decisions every second of our lives. Even though the AI we used obviously doesn't have a consciousness of its own, it seems like it can still bring up some pretty interesting ideas about its own responses. Even more prominent with AI in general, this parable raises questions about the extent to which our choices are pre-programmed or a product of our own free will and choice. Like in AI, many times we may have a variety of different opinions or paths to take depending on one single variable. So perhaps one could argue that every future state or decision exists until we make a choice to pursue one or the other, much like super positioning. The sage's words of wisdom ring true for us also. Nothing in existence really exists in isolation. Everything depends on something else to give it meaning. And in a way, all things exist separately as independent objects because everything else exists to compare those things too. Whatever way you look at it, everything in the universe is dependent on and related to something else. Everything is ultimately connected, even us. It's cool that a robot came to that same conclusion that we've been saying for years now. Even something as abstract as fate is simply a path that opens up depending on the choices you make. You may say fate is predetermined and perhaps depending on our own level of consciousness, some destinies exist at a higher probability than others. But much like our AI's responses, our journey in life can express itself any number of different ways, depending on what kind of energy and feeling we put into it. Ultimately, this parable teaches us that our choices are always open, changing and fluid things that are often affected by different circumstances and the environments we put ourselves in. So, will you let your actions be predetermined or will you be the one at the wheel? Maybe it's your choice after all. The Parable of the Selfish Monk Long ago, in ancient Japan, lived a devout Shinto monk. He lived a simple life but was often distracted in his prayers by the hustle and bustle of the city. He felt as if his neighbors and friends were polluting his soul. One day, he decided to undergo a harai, a purification ritual that would cleanse his body and mind. He set off on a long and dangerous journey to a mountain shrine, which took many days, but he was glad for the peace and solitude that it gave him. After returning home, the peace he found was so great that he wanted to hold on to it for as long as possible and so continued to do the pilgrimage another 99 times. He would walk alone on his journey to the mountains, ignoring every distraction in his quest for balance. Come rain, storm or shine, he made the long journey. Eventually, his devotion and practices began to reveal the world of the kami and the man was able to see and understand the spirits and spiritual essence of all things, like the wind and the rocks which existed alongside our own world. But still, he spoke to no one and he was determined to avoid anyone who he saw as corrupt, materialistic, or who had strayed from the path of non-attachment. Of all the threats to his spiritual purity, corruption and disease were the worst, and so he avoided these most of all. After visiting the shrine for the 80th time, he set out for home as he always did, but as twilight swallowed the sun, he heard a strange sobbing in the night air. The monk tried ignoring the wailing and pushed onwards, but eventually it became too great, so he strayed from his path in search of its source. By the roadside, he came across an old cottage with a crying woman lamenting the death of her mother and the fact that no one would help her to bury her. Upon hearing the woman's plea, the monk's heart sank, as he knew that touching a dead body would defile his purity, but as he listened to the woman's cries, his empathy soared like a crane in the early morning breeze. And so they buried the old woman together to ensure her safe passage into the world of the Kami. The burial was done, but the taboo of death weighed heavy on the monk's heart. How could he have been so foolish as to defile his body by touching the dead? That night he could not sleep and so resolved to return to the shrine and try and cleanse himself. To his surprise, the usually quiet shrine was filled with people, all gathering round a blind soothsayer who was communicating directly with the Kami. The man hid himself, fearing to be seen and judged by the spirits, but the soothsayer had other ways of seeing and called him forward. The monk approached the holy woman fearfully, but she merely smiled and took his hand. She whispered a blessing only he could hear, thanking him for his kindness. In that moment he understood a great spiritual secret. Contamination and corruption are two very different things. Filled with insight, the monk set off on his journey again, but this time helped all those who he met as he began to see the beauty of the spirit world in all things, even the city that he had previously shunned. And even though the other monks cautioned him against corruption, he simply smiled because he knew that true spiritual purity could only come from one's own journey. This old folktale from Japan has it all. A lonely monk, a blind soothsayer and elemental spirits. You don't get much better than this. The ultimate lesson of this parable, however, is twofold. Many times we take authoritative statements as fact because they are ingrained in our cultural belief and memory, as with the parable of the ritual cat. However, the truest authority for us is ourselves. We cannot hope to achieve fulfillment by following other people's views on spirituality. You can read every self-help book in Buddhist sutra, but unless you put those practices into motion yourself in your own life and form your own view, they will simply stay words on a page. The other aspect of this parable speaks to the importance of compassion in our daily life. It echoes the sentiments that perhaps the first step to true peace lies in lessening the suffering of others and being in service to both yourself and your community. It doesn't really matter what your belief is, helping others in need is always the best deed you can do in your life, with both humility and philanthropy being almost universally agreed upon spiritual traits. In fact, even when Jesus was asked why he sat and ate with sinners, he simply replied, A physician goes to the sick, not to the well, but come back when you understand, for I desire mercy, not sacrifice. In the end, the soothsayer gave the monk the wisdom that purifying oneself doesn't only lie in going on a pilgrimage and honoring someone or meditating, but in helping and caring for someone and living from the heart, regardless of other people's views or opinions. The Parable of the River Long ago, there was a small village on the edge of a river. The people there lived in harmony with nature and each other, and life in the village was good. One day, as a villager began his early morning stroll, he noticed that the once vibrant river was looking slightly murkier than normal and contained some sludge and pollution resting on the banks. The villager quickly went out of his way to clear the pollution and restoring the flow, but the next day, the same villager noticed two lifeless fish in the river, and both fish were scooped out of the waters. The following day, debris started to build up and the flow of the river started to become constricted, cutting off water to the village. Naturally, the villagers organized themselves quickly, setting up watchtowers and training teams of swimmers and environmentalists who could resist the swift waters and dislodge the debris. Cleanup squads were soon working 24 hours a day to keep up with the increasing pollution. While not all the fish could be removed from the river, the villagers felt they were doing well to clean up as much as they could. Indeed, the village priests even blessed them in their work, and life in the village continued on that basis for many months. One day, however, a young girl was playing by the riverside and saw the pollution, and she looked off in the distance and turned to her grandfather, asking, where is all of the waste coming from? She then said, let's organize a team to head upstream and find out who's throwing all of their trash into the river in the first place. However, the logic of the community elders countered, but if we were to go upstream, who would take care of the rescue operation? We need every concerned person here. Don't be ridiculous. The girl cried, but you don't see. If we find out who's polluting the river, we can stop the problem and no fish will die. It is far too risky, and we need all the help here, said the village elders. And so the numbers of fish found floating in the river continued to increase daily, and the river just got dirtier. Several days later, the young girl decided to go upstream herself to find the source of the corruption. Upstream, she found a mountain of plastic from the building of a nearby village that was releasing chemicals into the once beautiful river and blocking up the waterways. She smiled to herself and began to remove as much as she could, and as she removed the pollution, the river returned to normal, much to the confusion of the other villagers. This is a great little parable to consider when you're trying to explain the problem-solving process. To truly solve any issue, you have to come at it from different angles, sometimes multiples at once. It also speaks to solving issues at their core. Many times, like the flu or the common cold, once you start noticing symptoms, chances are the problem has been present for a while already. When faced with an issue, you can keep solving the consequences or effects that it causes and stay up to date with the issues. But unless you solve the root of the problem, it will keep producing more and more things that you have to deal with. Much like Western medicine, treating diseases as and when they appear, sometimes it's better to act in prevention and stop any foreseeable consequences in the first place. Perhaps we can even argue that treating the product of a problem isn't really a sustainable way of being. Since no matter how much energy we devote to them, our focus will always eventually be needed somewhere else. So the takeaway lesson from this parable then is to always look at a situation from every angle before making your decision on how to best act on it. Take into account every option and look for the root of the problem rather than just at its consequences. The Parable of the Poisoned Arrow The Buddha tended to tell his disciples not to waste their time and energy in metaphysical speculation. Whenever he was asked a metaphysical question, he remained silent. Instead, he directed his disciples to more practical efforts. One day, when he was questioned on the problem of the infinite versus the finite, the Buddha said whether the world is finite or infinite, limited or unlimited, the problem of the liberation of your suffering remains the same. Suppose a man is struck by a poisoned arrow and the doctor wants to take out the arrow immediately. But suppose this wounded man does not want the arrow removed until he knows who shot him, his age, his family, and why he was shot in the first place. What do you suppose would happen? If he has to wait until all of these questions were answered, then he might surely die before coming to an understanding. Life is so short. It must not be spent in endless metaphysical speculation that does not bring us any closer to the truth. Speculation and inquiry is a beautiful thing. But first, let us remove the arrow. Coming from the Buddhist teachings of the 14 unanswerable questions, this parable is often taken as a lesson on grounding teachings and being practical in one's search for answers. As is often the case with the Buddha, all philosophies and approach to life were grounded not in theories or speculations, but in practical application and the desire to solve real-world problems. Gautama often saw suffering as simply another problem in life, one that required solving and was perhaps even the most important problem to solve. As such, he used this parable to help us understand the difference between what was a useful use of our time and what wasn't. After all, life is said to be an experiential journey. How can we participate in it if all of our time is taken up answering the exact and precise nature of the world we live in? In other words, whether you believe the world is eternal or not, spiritual or material, you can't deny that we all have to face the reality of birth, old age, sickness, death, and suffering at some point. No amount of why or how questions will change that. When Gautama became enlightened, it wasn't through a revelation of esoteric knowledge that it could be explained or talked about. No, it was an insight into the true nature of reality through direct personal experience that he tried to share. In much the same way, spiritual speculation is worthless without first grounding it in personal insight and an understanding of how it can help the world and yourself. Perhaps there's also something here about tackling the biggest problems first. By understanding our suffering and working to solve it, it opens up our short time here for asking better and more practical questions and how we can better our own lives and the lives of others.