The power of a good metaphor. Two stories and a poem about water.
From a commencement speech by David Foster Wallace:
There are these two young fish swimming along and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says, “Morning, boys. How’s the water?” And the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then one of them looks over at the other and says, “What the hell is water?”
Anthony de Mello tells a similar story about a fish who is slightly more aware but blinded by expectations:
A little fish went looking for the ocean. He swims up to a big fish and asks, “Where can I find the ocean?”
The big fish replied, “Why little one, you are in the ocean.”
“This?” replied the little fish. “This is just water. Where can I find the ocean?”
The big fish repeated his answer.
Disappointed, the little fish swam off to look for the ocean.
And now a poem (by me):
As flowing water falls to seek the lowest point,
At gives all its energy away until none remains,
And then returns to its source to fall again.
What does the water gain from this falling?
What does life gain?