Dao Monastery"

Sunlight spilled playfully across the stone courtyard in front of the main hall, where students were eating breakfast. It was shaping up to be a truly beautiful day, and even the fog around the snow-capped peaks of the surrounding mountains seemed to have cleared somewhat. The monastery looked quite good for its venerable age, with all its buildings housing lecture halls, utility rooms, and dormitories. In such weather, the fantastic flowerbeds and colorful gardens, tended by masters and adepts alike, looked their best.

For a moment, the man gazed at this priceless beauty, which he had called home long enough to love like nothing else in the world, but also too briefly for it to cease to fascinate him. Beads of sweat appeared on his completely bald head. He stroked his long, blond beard, braided into three beautiful braids adorned with small brown beads, and then headed down the stairs toward the Courtyard of Nature, holding a small bundle under his arm. He walked quickly, glancing nervously behind him. He wore a long, snow-white robe that reached to his ankles, and on his feet were handmade sandals, expertly crafted by the monastery's shoemaker. Their soft soles cushioned his footsteps perfectly on the stone slabs.

Soon he reached the Courtyard of Nature, situated on a smooth slope, slightly lower than the rest of the monastery buildings. He sat cross-legged under an ancient oak tree, leaning his back against its massive trunk, and carefully unrolled the bundle. He immediately caught the scent of fast food restaurants and fat, unhealthy American children. In his hands was a real hamburger. He passionately began biting off each piece and savoring the full flavor of stale oil, reheated meat, stale salads, and a multitude of flavor-stimulating substances. He knew so many nasty things about these foods, but he simply adored them. Nothing more, nothing less.

After finishing his hamburger, he carefully licked the wrapper clean of expired ketchup and watery mayonnaise, then began dessert. Yes, he had managed to smuggle true wealth into the monastery. A genuine Snickers bar. He gazed at the shiny wrapper for a moment, his eyes sparkling, then hurriedly tore it open and stuffed the sweet bar into his mouth.

"Master! Master!" cried one of the students, clad in an orange robe, who was just running down the stone steps to the Courtyard of Nature. The man swallowed the rest of the bar and hastily tucked the torn wrapper away. He assumed a sage's pose and cast a lazy glance at the approaching figure.

“Hello, Master Diaoko,” said the out-of-breath student.

"Hello, Hirui. What brings you here?" In such instances, he used a calm tone, albeit one tinged with mystery. This gave it a more philosophical tone.

"Master..." Hirui began slowly, and Diaoko motioned for him to sit down. "Master, I... I had lectures yesterday with Master Mishima on various philosophical concepts, and I wonder how it is that the same world, the same events, the same objects, which are unchanging, permanent, and eternal, are often perceived so differently by two different people that, despite being essentially one, they present them as completely different, dissimilar occurrences. Can Master explain to me how it is that the same stone can be a hated obstacle for one person and a wonderful geological asset for another?

" "You asked a very good question, my dear," Diaoko replied after a moment, feigning contemplation. In reality, he was picking the remains of a sticky Snickers bar from the gaps between his teeth with his tongue. When he finished, he looked gently at his student and said,

"The world is not what it is, but how we perceive it..." He paused, gazing intently into the eyes of his recipient. Hirui didn't even blink, and his face wore an image of deep contemplation and a seemingly incomplete, yet very trusting, learning. "In truth, the world itself has no shape and takes on no value. Everything you see is your own empirical perception of the reality that surrounds you. Consequently, it is not a shape in itself, but a certain specific form that passes through the prism of your senses, feelings, experiences, and views. These factors, however, are individual, intuitive, unrestrained, primal, obvious, and therefore utterly singular. Generally speaking, my dear Hirui, there is practically no basic, pure form of Reality. Every person is a cosmos and an absolute in themselves, and it is our inner feelings that determine how we perceive what surrounds us." A pessimist views the world through the prism of negative emotions and sees it as bad, corrupt, and filthy, while an optimist exists in the same reality, but through their attitudes, they change its face. The world in their eyes is good, beautiful, and full of moments of happiness. Thus, we come to the conclusion that Reality doesn't take on any specific form, but is merely like water, which, in vague shapes, reflects back to us much of itself. From an impersonal perspective, our world is therefore the sum of coexisting independent cosmoses." Diaoko swallowed, moistening his parched throat. He showed no emotion, but inwardly, he was as pleased as a child to have managed to answer the question so fluently. Pleasantly flattered by his own thoughts, he allowed himself a gentle, faint smile. Hirui remained silent.

"Master... then why do we store knowledge, accumulate it, and pass it on to future generations, when in reality it is unreliable, having been created based on the views and experiences of an individual?" The Master looked indignantly at his student for a moment. He was certain that analyzing and deducing the presented view would take him at least a week, and in that time he would be able to come up with something. However, the ambitious Hirui pushed him to formulate a philosophy immediately. Diaoko took a deep breath, thought for a moment, and began to speak:

"We need knowledge for analysis. A person driven by emotions alone, recognizing only the power and superiority of interpretation stemming from the formlessness of the Essence of Things, becomes an animal that doesn't produce but hunts, doesn't love but desires, and doesn't develop but exists. We need information acquired either by deduction or by science to correctly interpret and interpret the empirical sensations that existence provides us. It's not enough to just feel the world; we must also understand it." You wonder how it is that individual knowledge becomes common knowledge, despite the fact that everyone sees the world differently? When we receive knowledge, we adopt the creator's train of thought. It also contains an intuitive framework for interpretation, so it's easier to internalize it. Of course, there are exceptions. If, for example, you're studying mathematics and don't like it, the knowledge won't be easily absorbed. Your subconscious perception of reality will defend itself against outside interference. This is when they tell you it's logical, even though you don't see any sense in it. If, on the other hand, you allow a specific way of perceiving it to be imposed on you, then, along with the knowledge, you receive a ready-made key and assimilate mathematics. However, any knowledge you accept is also subjected within you to constant interpretations, changes, and deviations from its original. Take, for example, intellectual currents. One era accumulated a certain level of knowledge and established a key to its interpretation, while another didn't change the knowledge, but rather the key to its understanding. The world was the same, but the way we look at it had changed, and that's why conflict arose. The world remains the same, but the way we look at it changes its face in the mind of the viewer. That's why many things change constantly. Philosophy, science, art. The very essence of things remains the same; only the keys to interpretation change, and because the essence of things is practically undefined and only empirical perception counts, we have the impression that the world is constantly changing. – He was now barely breathing. Tired of thinking, he almost collapsed against the tree trunk. Hirui remained silent. Diaoko hoped that perhaps this time he had confused the matter sufficiently, that his student would give him a moment of respite to attend to less lofty matters. Hirui remained silent. This was a good sign.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by the sound of a staff tapping on the stone steps. It was the Grandmaster of the Monastery of Good Hope, the enlightened Takamashi, approaching them. As usual, he leaned on a cracked, wooden staff, clearly very old. Hirui prostrated himself before the approaching Grandmaster, who with a nod motioned him to leave. The student bowed and left the courtyard. Diaoko continued to stare at the enlightened one, who now stood before him.

"Greetings, Enlightened Takamashi." The Master bent double so that his chin almost touched the ground.

"Greetings, Diaoko." The Grandmaster smiled. "I see you teach even during breaks. I was just about to tell you that the students are very pleased with your classes, and the Masters appreciate your teachings, even though you're the youngest. I'd like to recognize you somehow, so I'll let you choose your own reward." The old man paused, looking sympathetically at his interlocutor.

"Enlightened One... I would like to go down to the city," he said uncertainly. The monastery was the home of Teachers and students, and the rule was to spend one's entire life within these walls. Leaving the monastery was rare, and only with the Grandmaster's permission.

"I know what you're getting at, Diaoko." The Enlightened One looked at the Master. "You're succumbing to civilization and its pernicious habits again. Don't you remember that our task is to gather wisdom, passing it on to others? We are humble servants, living in isolation to have freedom and purity of thought."

"But Enlightened One Takashi... What value are our isolated wisdoms, our deduced patterns, if we create them far from the sphere in which they are intended to function? How can we help people with their problems if we have never touched them? We must know them at least a little... I promise I will maintain boundaries..." The Grandmaster fell into thought. For a moment, his face showed no emotion, then he smiled broadly and said,

"You've convinced me, Diaoko." It's not without reason that I named you the youngest Master of the Monastery in centuries, but don't overindulge my sympathy." He almost left, but halfway up the stairs to the upper levels, he turned, looked at the Master, and said,

"And as for the boundary, remember that wherever you draw it, it will always be right there, right beneath your feet." He smiled as if unconsciously to himself and finally left the courtyard.

Diaoko wanted to jump for joy. He hadn't been in the city for a long time, and his supplies of "civilized pleasures" were running low. But now there was hope. Maybe he could even take a risk and smuggle in a glossy pornographic magazine and a few cans of Coca-Cola?

He glanced at the sky. The weather really was beautiful today.