2 views
Ripples on the surface of Truth
"Ripples on the Surface of Truth"
The old man sat on the mountain, surrounded by the whispers of the wind. He had spent his life seeking answers to the great questions of existence, and now, in his final moments, he had come to understand.
A young traveler, seeking wisdom, climbed the mountain and found the old man. "Tell me, wise one," the traveler asked, "what is the meaning of life?"
The old man smiled. "It is not a answer that can be given, but a truth that must be discovered. Come, let us walk."
They strolled through the misty valleys and sun-drenched peaks, discussing the teachings of the great philosophers. They spoke of Plato's forms, Aristotle's causality, and the existential musings of Nietzsche.
As the sun began to set, the old man led the traveler to a tranquil lake. "Look into the water," he said. "What do you see?"
The traveler gazed into the lake and saw his own reflection staring back. "I see myself," he replied.
"Ah," said the old man, "but do you see the ripples in the water? The way your image is distorted, yet still visible? That is the nature of reality. Our perceptions are but ripples on the surface of truth."
The traveler pondered this wisdom, and as the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, the old man vanished into the darkness, leaving behind only the whispers of the wind.
The traveler returned to the world below, forever changed, with the understanding that philosophy is not a destination, but a journey – a never-ending quest to grasp the elusive truth that lies just beyond the ripples of our understanding.
© Hawaimperial5
The old man sat on the mountain, surrounded by the whispers of the wind. He had spent his life seeking answers to the great questions of existence, and now, in his final moments, he had come to understand.
A young traveler, seeking wisdom, climbed the mountain and found the old man. "Tell me, wise one," the traveler asked, "what is the meaning of life?"
The old man smiled. "It is not a answer that can be given, but a truth that must be discovered. Come, let us walk."
They strolled through the misty valleys and sun-drenched peaks, discussing the teachings of the great philosophers. They spoke of Plato's forms, Aristotle's causality, and the existential musings of Nietzsche.
As the sun began to set, the old man led the traveler to a tranquil lake. "Look into the water," he said. "What do you see?"
The traveler gazed into the lake and saw his own reflection staring back. "I see myself," he replied.
"Ah," said the old man, "but do you see the ripples in the water? The way your image is distorted, yet still visible? That is the nature of reality. Our perceptions are but ripples on the surface of truth."
The traveler pondered this wisdom, and as the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, the old man vanished into the darkness, leaving behind only the whispers of the wind.
The traveler returned to the world below, forever changed, with the understanding that philosophy is not a destination, but a journey – a never-ending quest to grasp the elusive truth that lies just beyond the ripples of our understanding.
© Hawaimperial5
