Francisco Miraval
A few days ago, I woke up earlier than usual, precisely at that time when there is enough light to see, but the sun is not up yet. I went to the kitchen to prepare some coffee and looking around I noticed an umbrella inside a flower vase. I was surprised, because I have never seen before an umbrella inside a flower vase. Who put it there and why?
I seldom, if ever, use umbrellas. So, I knew it wasn’t me. Somebody else put the umbrella in that odd location. But, why? The answer should be obvious: the umbrella was wet, probably still dripping water (the day before has been raining) and, to avoid damaging the floor, somebody put the umbrella inside the flower vase.
But I wasn’t satisfied with my own answer. After all, if the umbrella is wet, it makes no sense to put it inside a vase filled with water. What would be the point of entering the house with a wet umbrella instead of leaving it on the garage? And what about the flowers?
Knowing that it was not me who put the umbrella in the flower vase, I decided to rehearse in my mind a speech I was hoping to use later, at the proper time, to chastise the responsible party for his or her careless action.
Before rehearsing my speech about the need to taking better care of the house, and because it was still early in the morning, I decided to prepare some coffee, because I wanted to be fully awake. And to prepare the coffee, I turned on the lights in the kitchen. And then I saw something unexpected: there was no umbrella inside the flower base.
Now that I was awake, and now that I have better light, I realized that a strange combination of shadows created by the light of the rising sun entering the room at an angle through the blinds right in the direction of the flower base generated a shadow than I thought was an umbrella. But there was no umbrella at all, except in my mind and in my imagination.
It is true that the day before was rainy and that somebody had used un umbrella. And the flower vase is real: it is still there, in the same spot where it has been for years. Yet, an odd overlapping of light and shadows deceived me. Not fully awake and without additional light, I assumed what I was seeing was real, but it was not.
I began to think, then, how many other things (certainly more important than umbrellas and flower vases) I also assume are real, even if they are not, simply because I am still asleep (as Heraclitus suggested) or still in darkness (as Buddha suggested).
Perhaps the whole reality is just a meaningless overlapping the lights and shadows and we waste our time trying to find meaning, debating it and making speeches about it. Perhaps a new day of awakening will soon arrive.