There is a parable from ancient India of six blind men who lived together outside of a remote village. The shared experience of their blindness created a bond of friendship among them, which helped them create a comfortable life together by sharing tasks and looking out for one another.
One morning, as they were brought their tea by a villager who looked in on them, she told them of a strange animal, called an elephant, had been brought to their village by a young boy. They had never heard of such a creature, and such a puzzlement it was to those who could only learn and conceptualize what was new by touching it. Over their morning tea, they wondered what such a being would be like and discussed what attributes it might possess. Finally, with their curiosity set aflame and their courage bolstered by their camaraderie, they decided to set off to the village to experience this marvelous being.
They walked to the village as was their manner in a single line, each with his hand upon the other’s shoulder in front of him. In that way, each could offer support to the man ahead and guidance to the man behind. Being the most confident, the first man would always lead the way, feeling the path with his staff. The sixth man, who was an unsure fellow, never argued his place as the last man. But on that day, they were all excited about what they might find and hurried upon their way. As they walked, their conversation became so animated with theories and speculations that their minds lost track of their journey. Thus, distracted as they were with their discussion, they found themselves in the village square before they knew, and walking right into the elephant that resting in its center.
So sudden was their encounter that the first man who had been leading them stumbled right over his staff into the elephant’s side. He was quick to right himself, for having been blind since birth, he had become agile and certain in his dark world, confident in his bearings. Not sure of what he ran into, he reached out and met the wide expanse of the elephant’s side. Giving the creature an experimental push against the rough, tough skin, he declared without hesitation, “My friends, who could have guessed, but the elephant is a wall!” As to prove his point to himself, he reached his arms out to each side, feeling the elephant from where he stood, stating, “It is very broad.”. Then he reached his hands high over his head, touching the elephant again. “And it is very tall!” Stepping back, he clapped his hands together and proclaimed, “So broad, so tall, this elephant is a barrier we cannot pass!”.
The second man was a distrustful fellow for no small reason. His blindness was the result of an injury suffered by following the misguided advice of a friend. Which is why he always liked to be behind the first in case he felt he was once again being misled. But having lost his grip on the first’s shoulder as they bumped into the elephant, he reached forward to regain his hold on him. Instead, he happened to seize the elephant’s tusk just as the magnificent creature turned his head to examine his visitors, bruising his hand on its tipped point. “Owww!” He cried in pain, holding his throbbing hand as he warned, “No, no, my friends! The elephant is not a wall. It is a weapon, a spear to avoid lest it pierces you.”
The third man had a quick temper in the best of times and was inclined to lash out when in the mood. Unfortunately for him, he lost his sight when he engaged with a similar chap whose temper was more violent than his own. The third man was close enough to the first two to be jostled about when they ran into the elephant, which irritated him. But when he heard the first man’s declaration of an obstacle and the second man’s cry of pain, he felt his temper flare. The happy adventure he expected was turning into something unexpected and potentially hostile. Thus, when the second man declared a weapon was at hand, the third man pushed by to grab what he thought would be a way he could protect himself. Only instead of grabbing the expected spear, he found himself grasping the lithe and lively trunk of the elephant. Now, the elephant, a bit bemused over his visitors and wondering what the fuss was, interpreted the man’s grip as an introduction. The same gesture among its kind would be to twine their trunks together. So, being a polite elephant, he returned the gesture by wrapping his trunk around the third man’s arm. However, when the third felt the trunk wrap around his arm and sensed the incredible strength poised within its grip, he shrieked in fear, thrusting it away. “Beware!” he shouted, “The elephant is neither a wall nor a spear. It is a snake ready to strike!”.
The fourth man, also blind from birth as the first, had no idea what a snake was and thought they had come to see an elephant, which he had yet to understand. He had grown up with a family that had sheltered him from any perceived danger, large or small. But in doing so, they also made him very dependent on others and unsure of his ability to look out for himself. When he sensed the fear in the third man’s voice, he turned to run, only to collide right into the elephant’s leg. Disorientated, he steadied himself by wrapping his arms around the broad circumference of that mighty limb. Silently he wondered what fools his companions were. For he found the elephant to be neither a wall, a spear, or a snake, but instead the steady presence of a tree that he could lean upon as support.
The fifth man was a meditative fellow who considered himself the spiritual superior of the others. He was even a bit proud of his loss of vision from cataracts, believing his blindness a benediction granted on him to overcome the temptations of the outer world. And while he stayed out of frays and quarrels of his companions, neither did he try to mediate them. In the initial encounter with the elephant, he had stepped back with the sixth man at his side as they felt the commotion around them. But he had barely heard his friends’ words and exclamation, for he had already fallen into his habit of inward contemplation. So, when he felt a gentle, rhythmic breeze upon his cheek on what had been such a hot and still day, he wondered at its source. Leaving the sixth man where he stood, the fifth followed the sensation he felt with his outstretched hand until he touched the broad and delicate membrane of the elephant’s ear, gently flapping to cool its body. Delighted to have discovered the elephant was a fan to ease the oppression of a hot day, he kept his discovery quiet. Telling himself if his friends were wiser, they too could enjoy such a blessing.
The sixth man believed himself to be an unlucky soul. Before the loss of his vision, he made soaps and potions prized by the local maharajah until a random gust of wind blew a caustic mix of lye and ash into his eyes, blinding him. Along with losing sight, he lost his profession and his family, who cast him out, deeming him cursed in their anger over the loss of his income. The sixth man never complained about being last in the line in all the group’s travels. Because he believed in his ill-fortune, he always thought he was at risk of being abandoned by the fellowship. And that is precisely what he surmised when he sensed the fifth man leave him. He did not know yet what an elephant was but having heard the commotion of the others and having the fifth man leave him, he decided it must be an unlucky thing and no longer wanted any part of the discovery. As he turned to leave, however, the elephant, now waking fully from his rest with all the activity around him, yawned and stretched out one of its trunk-like hind legs. The elephant’s gesture just happened to catch the unfortunate sixth as he was walking behind the creature, sending him tumbling. And as the sixth fell, wind milling his arms, terrified of falling in the midst of something unknown, he felt a rope brush his hand. Without thinking, he grabbed hold of this miraculous intervention to prevent his fall, unaware that he had caught the elephant’s tail as it swung back and forth, swishing flies. Clinging to the tail in silent wonder, he thought surely this was a sign his luck had changed. How else could it be for him to be so fortunate that the elephant turned out to be a rope delivered to save him just in time from another disaster.
By now, the elephant, having been poked, prodded, tugged, and hugged, decided that it might be better to find a quieter spot to rest. He moved away, letting the six blind men find their way back to each other. They were all eager to share their experience with the elephant. But as each man related what he believed what the elephant was, the others would contradict him, or criticize him for misunderstanding what he experienced. Each would insist that their experience of the elephant was the correct one and that if only the others would listen and let go of their interpretation, could they understand what an elephant was. But no matter how forceful their arguments, they could not agree on what an elephant was because each had a different experience of their encounter. And because they could not agree, they distrusted each other’s experience as it did not match their own. And in the end, their argument became bitter and poisonous. It finally ended with words they all regretted but felt justified in speaking for the injury they felt in the others’ refusal to see the error of their perception. Each man became stuck upon his own pillar of righteous indignation while the ground of their friendship crumbled away beneath them.
With the angry, hurtful words echoing in their mind, the six blind men stumbled away from each other. The once orderly and supportive column by which they had walked into the village, had become a broken, scattered line as they left. Each was uncertain where to go from that exchange. And though they longed for the guidance and support they once shared, none felt able to reach out as they once did, for they felt the cost of reconciliation not equal to the price of the validity of their opinion.
As they moved away from the village square, they passed the woman who had served their tea just that very morning and told them about the elephant. Upon seeing the six men wander away dejectedly, the woman asked a boy who had been sitting nearby, if there had been a problem with the men and the elephant. The boy, who was the elephant’s caretaker, and had been chopping sugar cane for his charge to eat, looked over at the mean walking away thoughtfully before he replied. “There was no problem, only identities that collided with truth.”
The boy’s answer puzzled the woman, so she asked, “But why would the truth keep those men from walking together as they once did, guiding and supporting one another? “Because” replied the boy, “each could not accept the fullness of that truth, beyond their personal experience. Their rejection became a crisis to their understanding that no one can experience the full truth. Yet, had each listened with an open heart to one another, they would have gained not only a richer and fuller understanding of the magnificent creature before them but also a better understanding of each other. Each collided with the elephant, and each collision, exposed a truth, not about the elephant, but themselves. What separated them was not that they could not agree on what the elephant was, but rather what they feared was what the elephant exposed, a world beyond their knowledge. To mask that fear, they instead chose to fight over their experience of the elephant.”
The woman sighed, “Such a shame, for all these years, they supported each other while because they share the same affliction of blindness, only to fall apart because they were afraid that they might finally be truly seen.”
The boy nodded as he returned to chopping the sugar cane. “Yes,” he agreed, “everyone wants truth but fears honesty. And by that fear, we keep ourselves blind to what truth does.”
“What is that?” asked the woman. The boy looked up in surprise at her question, but smiled when he saw her confusion and answered, “It clears the way.”
And with that, he jumped to his feet, gathering the sugar cane in a sack. Turning towards where the blind men had wandered off, he looked over his shoulder and was about to call to his when the old woman asked “Clears the way for what?” “Love” he said as both and answer and a call.
Like blind men running into elephants, we create the crises in our lives when we cannot accept the fullness of that truth beyond our personal experience. We value authenticity but we confuse our authenticity for truth. We live in a world where speaking what is true for us as individuals becomes a weapon of division, rather than an invitation or a quest to understand how true and truth are not necessarily the same thing but equally meaningful when one is spoken with humility and the other is sought with innocence, or the beginner’s mind. We should all be encouraged to speak what is true for us, but we must keep in mind that each of us can only have the experience of our truth. If we can accept that and recognize each of us processes our mirror reflection of truth, then perhaps we can be more willing to share the truths of ourselves with each other without expecting to convince each other one is right and one is wrong. When we stop trying to convince others of our truth and start listening and collaborating with one another in a way to paint a full picture, we fill the holes in our understanding and a stronger foundation is built. Understanding comes when we look past the fear of what we might lose. And when we really think about it, all we can lose is an expectation.
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