The most insignificant is the deepest of all

[Gem]

Imagine that you enter the dining hall and there's two tables. One table is enormous and well dressed and laid out with splendid delectables. The very finest of feasts. Off to the side there's a small plain wooden table with a bowl of plain porridge there. People come in and are mesmorised by the succulent banquet, and when they pass the plain old porridge they think, what's this doing here? And then take great pleasure in their meals.

[BlueSky]

See I think the deepest of us all would recognize the deepest of them all and therefore would not consider them/ it insignificant.
The people who would considered the deepest of them all insignificant would not benefit from this wisdom.

[Mr Interesting]

I watched Ghost Dog last night and so such a post resonates.

Everything has a price and within such a sumptuous life it takes a fair bit of work to realise the price of a peaceful life. That the great emptiness is so full is often overlooked.

I like. It reminded me of this gem - it's a weird story with weird subtleties, but to me (maybe) the missing piece was the most insignificant feeling piece in all the story, that was the servant girl, and the lesson that, for all the feasts in the world, great or small, it is the preparation/the journey that is significant and feeds the soul.

For centuries, at the palace there had been a great annual feast, of such ceromony and significance that it was immortalised in paintings and stories the world over for its trusts and trimmings, elite guest list, its traditional fare, but most of all for its 3 nut roasts. There were always 3.

Now this year the palace was short staffed, and so it happened that the responsibility of preparing for the great feast fell upon the shoulders of a simple kitchen maid. But for what she lacked in experience the young girl made up for in enthusiasm. She knew the stories, had seen the pictures all her life, and driven with the curiosity and imagination of the serving classes, she relished being a part of the feast and set about her task.

Working day and night to get it just right, she travelled far and wide gathering the finest ingredients. Surprising even herself with her success, she collected fine spices from India, cheeses from france, belgian chocolates, italian wines and the tastiest organic fruits from England. With 2 days to go she returned home to await the delivery of the grand centre piece....the 3 nut roasts.

At last the package arrived, opening it, her heart skipped a beat, there were only 2 - had she failed her task?

With the hours ticking by like minutes, the girl ran from bakery to bakery....."I have only 2 nut roasts for the feast," she cried.

But all they replied was - "Oh! there's always 3 at the feast my dear."

She visited the story tellers and players to see if the story could be changed, adapted, but again came the reply - "No miss, there's always 3 nut roasts at the feast."

She looked at the roasts wondering if she could cut them, mould them, cover up her mistake and make 2 into 3. But she knew, in doing so she would be cutting up the true worth of the whole table - of the cheeses and wines, fruits and chocolates, the fine spices and most of all, the journey she had taken to find just right.

And so it was with a heavy heart she payed a visit to the Maitre-d: "Is everything prepared for the feast?" He asked, without glancing up to see her tear stained face.

"No sir, Im afraid I failed. We have the finest foods from all over the world, but... I made a mistake - there are only 2 nut roasts!"

To her puzzlement, with this news the maitre-d smiled calmly...."No miss, there are always 3 nut roasts, now on with the service."

As much care was taken laying the food out on the huge oak table, as she had taken gathering it, until again it felt just right. All except for the missing nut roast.

With the arrival of just 2 guests, the girl glimpsed the eye of the old man sitting to the centre of the table, and saw there her own puzzlement.

"Im sorry sir, there is only 2 nut roasts" she blurted out by way of an explanation at what she saw.

And with that the old man laughed "No miss, there are always 3."

[Gem]

That's a very curious story, Ivy. I'll probably be walking along one day in about 10 years time and suddenly realise what it means.

Once I heard a joke, and I didn't get it, and it dawned on me several years later. The joke went:

The head monk called his novices together every week and would ask then a koan one by one. The novices would answer, but not to the monks satisfaction. The monk would hit the novice with his stick and say 'try harder and come back next week'.

This had been going on for years and not once had a novice come up with a satisfactory answer, so for week after week they tried harder and harder, but to no avail.

One day, the novices were gathered and a young novice went to the front and the monk asked the koan. In reply the young novice said to monk, 'do you want me to whisper the answer to you or should I say it out loud?'

[Mr Interesting]

A friend of mine on facebook stated that a particular movie, which just won prizes, was really good and I replied I never got through it... it just wasn't doing it for me, and she asked why so I answered as best I could and she replied that she couldn't actually understand what I was saying.

Being able to sense levels of understanding even while they aren't necessarily there is a dying art it seems which defends the dull and allows the precocious to be called condescending which in and of itself is interesting because to even call something condescending means they might sense there is more going on than the surface hints at.

But what is it you have some ask that isn't an obviousness I can touch and feel but it is something and I know it seems ridiculous that I can't see others comprehending it but I'm willing to trust myself and my curiousity?

And so the levels of praise must somehow diminish as the power to reflect back also diminishes.

Originally Posted by Gem

That's a very curious story, Ivy. I'll probably be walking along one day in about 10 years time and suddenly realise what it means.

Once I heard a joke, and I didn't get it, and it dawned on me several years later. The joke went:

The head monk called his novices together every week and would ask then a koan one by one. The novices would answer, but not to the monks satisfaction. The monk would hit the novice with his stick and say 'try harder and come back next week'.

This had been going on for years and not once had a novice come up with a satisfactory answer, so for week after week they tried harder and harder, but to no avail.

One day, the novices were gathered and a young novice went to the front and the monk asked the koan. In reply the young novice said to monk, 'do you want me to whisper the answer to you or should I say it out loud?'

It is a very weird story - I was baffled by it, and I wrote the darned thing But when you take away all the trusts and trimmings, what is it but a story about nobody special going on a journey to find themselves.

Ha... I like the joke... and I got this one... it doesn't always happen

[wstein]

Originally Posted by Gem

Imagine that you enter the dining hall and there's two tables. One table is enormous and well dressed and laid out with splendid delectables. The very finest of feasts. Off to the side there's a small plain wooden table with a bowl of plain porridge there. People come in and are mesmorised by the succulent banquet, and when they pass the plain old porridge they think, what's this doing here? And then take great pleasure in their meals.

Deeper still is not to judge either table. Partake of one table, both tables, neither table, sit hungry in the corner. It is you that chooses what to do not the tables.

[Emmalevine]

Really nice analogy.

[knightofalbion]

'Better a dinner of herbs' ....