So I was sitting at the toilet minding my own business, when I suddenly discover, to my surprise, verses of delicate poetry printed all over the toilet paper.
This one, translated from Swedish, reads:
"They say that love can be glimpsed
at every corner
So why am I walking around
I do wonder who was behind this particular design choice? If you were a poet, would you be honoured to have your art published on the same paper with which folk use to wipe their arse after taking a dump?
Still. There is something about this I find to be deeply and incredibly profound.
When seeking God, or love, or truth, our eyes are set on the horizon, on ivory towers, on mountain peaks; it seems anywhere's good, as long as it's far away.
We hunt for it with ravenous hunger and fierce determination, keeping ourselves ever busy searching for the next method, spiritual book, partner, job, philosophy, teacher, practice, etc, which will lead us, finally, to that glorious destination.
What if truth isn't to be found somewhere far away, somewhere in the future? What if, perhaps, truth is closer than you could've ever imagined?
Indeed, what if it can be glimpsed, at every corner? Even at the toilet.
Master Tung Kuo asked Chuang Tzu, “That which is called the Tao, where is it?”
Chuang Tzu replied, “There is nowhere where it is not.”
“But give me a specific example.”
“In this ant,” said Chuang Tzu.
“Is that its lowest point?”
“In this panic grass,” said Chuang Tzu.
“Can you give me a lower example?”
“In this common earthenware tile,” said Chuang Tzu.
“This must be its lowest point!”
“It’s in shit and piss too,” said Chuang Tzu.
Master Tung Kuo had no answer to this.