“He who speaks does not know, he who knows does not speak.” — Lao Tzu
Words emanate light. Sentences reflect light and cast shadows.
He who speaks reflects light and casts shadows, but does not know the light.
He who knows does not speak as speaking separates him from the light.
He who speaks does not know what’s said is rarely what’s heard.
He who knows does not speak, for speaking is futile.
He who speaks describes what he sees and hears, not what he smells.
Yet, the nose knows.
He who knows does not speak as smells defy clear description.
He who speaks is an actor in the play of life.
He who know is the audience.
For actors, the play is a tragedy; as every actor inevitably is scripted out of the play and dies.
For the audience, the play is a comedy. The audience is the Gods. The Gods are forever laughing at the actors taking their selves seriously. The actors often forget they too are Gods.
He who laughs cannot speak. The Gods do not speak, they can only laugh.
He who speaks is in the now. He cannot grasp the now, as a hand cannot grasp itself.
He who knows does not speak as the now can only be known by observing.
He who speaks describes that which his mind creates; what his foveal vision carves out of peripheral vision.
He who knows does not speak, as peripheral vision defies specific description.
He who speaks creates a photo of the now.
He who knows does not speak, for the now is an eternal motion picture.
He who speaks does not know, as descriptions are empty; the now that’s described is now no longer. What’s described are illusions.
He who knows the now does not speak, as the essence of the now is nothing.
He who speaks describes things that were and are now no longer.
He who knows does not speak as there are no things. All there is is an everchanging flow.
He who speaks is a dot in a painting.
He who knows does not speak, for a painting is an infinite number of interdependent dots.
He who speaks does not know as attempting to describe the now supplants the now.
He who knows does not speak as descriptions are distractions from the now.
A speaker’s words are like the finite and precise space inside a square.
The endless and everchanging now is like the imprecise space inside a circle.
He who knows does not speak, for a circle cannot be squared.