The Orange Parable
Once upon a time there was an orange.
This was no ordinary orange. This was a thoughtful and self-reflecting orange who desperately wanted the keys to knowledge of this mysterious thing called "self". So the orange set on his way to understand his self and decided the best way to do so, would be to ask questions.
The orange went to the tree, for the tree had given him life and had known him the longest.
"Tree, what am I?" asked the orange.
"You are round and you are heavy." Replied the tree, "There are so many heavy things on my branches, I can scarcely hold myself up. It is best that you have gone to the ground."
The orange felt terrible. All ready he had burdened that which had given him life and when he looked up, he saw that he was just one of many burdens this tree had to bear. What a noble tree this must be, to have shouldered so many heavy burdens and sent them on their way toward life. The orange felt unworthy.
The orange rolled away and soon came to a young boy.
"Boy, what am I?" asked the orange.
"You are a toy!" shrieked the little boy with delight as he picked up the orange and flung him at the side of a building.
The orange slid down the side of the building with a dull thud. He could feel his insides loosen though his flesh was well intact. Besides feeling sore and confused, the orange felt sorrow that such a senseless act should be committed against him. The orange wondered what it was he had done to bring this upon himself.
The orange was then visited by a bird.
"Bird, what am I?" asked the orange.
"You are a tease!" squawked the bird," You taunt me with your beautiful orange color, but your skin is so tough, I cannot get inside you!"
The bird pecked and pecked at the orange until he finally pierced the thick flesh and let the sweet, sticky juice run out the newly opened seam. After prying him open, drinking his fill and absconding with some of his seeds, the bird flew away.
The orange felt frightened and lonely. In his quest for self he had discovered that he had been an immense burden, that he was a toy to be played with, and a tease to be brutalized and punished for his elegant orange hide. What a worthless thing he must be in order to be treated thus! The orange burst at his wounded seam and cried.
The sun had noticed these goings on and spoke to the orange.
"Little orange, I see you have been asking what you are to anyone who passes by- why have you not asked the most important one that question?" The sun inquired.
"All right, sun," sniffed the orange, "what am I?"
"To the tree you were heavy, because the tree is the tree. The tree knows nothing of being anything else. To the boy, you are a toy, because you are round and inviting and let yourself lay upon the ground for easy hands to grab at you. To the bird you were a hard won treat, vulnerable to his pecking because of your previous encounters. To me, you are soft, sticky and of little consequence except it is my duty to warm you and send you back to the ground from where you came."
"So I am completely worthless and this life has no meaning except to be pummeled and poked at, stolen from and left to rot?" The orange did not feel any better. He simply frowned and resorted to sarcasm, "Well, thank you, Sun for clearing that up."
The Sun smiled warmly and patiently, "But I am not yet finished little orange. I have asked you why you have not asked the most important one that question...
Impatiently and angrily the orange shouted, "BUT I ALREADY ASKED YOU!"
There was a moment of silence and the sun smiled again.
"No, little orange. Everyone has a different perception. You will never discover self if you define yourself only by what others tell you or by how they behave. They have no knowledge of what lies truly within your soul. Only you can answer that question with any truth. You must never assume that anyone else has the answers to the deepest questions of your heart. You are an orange, little one, beyond that I cannot say. Nor can anyone else."
The orange quietly considered the sun's words- as there was nothing left he COULD do- and as he pondered he felt the warmth of the sun caressing his back. The orange wept once again, but this time not from grief, sorrow or self pity, but from relief. The orange wept all of his sweetness and pulp into the ground. The ground gratefully accepted this gift and brought it to the tree who, in turn, lived another year and sprouted another blossom, who, in turn, became another orange...
Life is too short to wonder how everyone else sees you. Chances are they do not see you at all, for they are only concerned with how others see them. Be what you are, little orange, and you will always be yourself.
This was no ordinary orange. This was a thoughtful and self-reflecting orange who desperately wanted the keys to knowledge of this mysterious thing called "self". So the orange set on his way to understand his self and decided the best way to do so, would be to ask questions.
The orange went to the tree, for the tree had given him life and had known him the longest.
"Tree, what am I?" asked the orange.
"You are round and you are heavy." Replied the tree, "There are so many heavy things on my branches, I can scarcely hold myself up. It is best that you have gone to the ground."
The orange felt terrible. All ready he had burdened that which had given him life and when he looked up, he saw that he was just one of many burdens this tree had to bear. What a noble tree this must be, to have shouldered so many heavy burdens and sent them on their way toward life. The orange felt unworthy.
The orange rolled away and soon came to a young boy.
"Boy, what am I?" asked the orange.
"You are a toy!" shrieked the little boy with delight as he picked up the orange and flung him at the side of a building.
The orange slid down the side of the building with a dull thud. He could feel his insides loosen though his flesh was well intact. Besides feeling sore and confused, the orange felt sorrow that such a senseless act should be committed against him. The orange wondered what it was he had done to bring this upon himself.
The orange was then visited by a bird.
"Bird, what am I?" asked the orange.
"You are a tease!" squawked the bird," You taunt me with your beautiful orange color, but your skin is so tough, I cannot get inside you!"
The bird pecked and pecked at the orange until he finally pierced the thick flesh and let the sweet, sticky juice run out the newly opened seam. After prying him open, drinking his fill and absconding with some of his seeds, the bird flew away.
The orange felt frightened and lonely. In his quest for self he had discovered that he had been an immense burden, that he was a toy to be played with, and a tease to be brutalized and punished for his elegant orange hide. What a worthless thing he must be in order to be treated thus! The orange burst at his wounded seam and cried.
The sun had noticed these goings on and spoke to the orange.
"Little orange, I see you have been asking what you are to anyone who passes by- why have you not asked the most important one that question?" The sun inquired.
"All right, sun," sniffed the orange, "what am I?"
"To the tree you were heavy, because the tree is the tree. The tree knows nothing of being anything else. To the boy, you are a toy, because you are round and inviting and let yourself lay upon the ground for easy hands to grab at you. To the bird you were a hard won treat, vulnerable to his pecking because of your previous encounters. To me, you are soft, sticky and of little consequence except it is my duty to warm you and send you back to the ground from where you came."
"So I am completely worthless and this life has no meaning except to be pummeled and poked at, stolen from and left to rot?" The orange did not feel any better. He simply frowned and resorted to sarcasm, "Well, thank you, Sun for clearing that up."
The Sun smiled warmly and patiently, "But I am not yet finished little orange. I have asked you why you have not asked the most important one that question...
Impatiently and angrily the orange shouted, "BUT I ALREADY ASKED YOU!"
There was a moment of silence and the sun smiled again.
"No, little orange. Everyone has a different perception. You will never discover self if you define yourself only by what others tell you or by how they behave. They have no knowledge of what lies truly within your soul. Only you can answer that question with any truth. You must never assume that anyone else has the answers to the deepest questions of your heart. You are an orange, little one, beyond that I cannot say. Nor can anyone else."
The orange quietly considered the sun's words- as there was nothing left he COULD do- and as he pondered he felt the warmth of the sun caressing his back. The orange wept once again, but this time not from grief, sorrow or self pity, but from relief. The orange wept all of his sweetness and pulp into the ground. The ground gratefully accepted this gift and brought it to the tree who, in turn, lived another year and sprouted another blossom, who, in turn, became another orange...
Life is too short to wonder how everyone else sees you. Chances are they do not see you at all, for they are only concerned with how others see them. Be what you are, little orange, and you will always be yourself.
posted by Bree O'Connor at 1:58 AM
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