Light my candle

In early times in Japan, bamboo-and-paper lanterns were used with candles inside. A blind man, visiting a friend one night, was offered a lantern to carry home with him.

"I do not need a lantern," he said. "Darkness or light is all the same to me." "I know you do not need a lantern to find your way," his friend replied, "but if you don’t have one, someone else may run into you. So you must take it."

The blind man started off with the lantern and before he had walked very far someone ran squarely into him. "Look out where you are going!" he exclaimed to the stranger. "Can’t you see this lantern?"

"Your candle has burned out, brother," replied the stranger.

Source

Godel and the End of Physics - Stephen Hawking

......

Up to now, most people have implicitly assumed that there is an ultimate theory that we will eventually discover. Indeed, I myself have suggested we might find it quite soon. However, M-theory has made me wonder if this is true. Maybe it is not possible to formulate the theory of the universe in a finite number of statements. This is very reminiscent of Godel's theorem. This says that any finite system of axioms is not sufficient to prove every result in mathematics.

Godel's theorem is proved using statements that refer to themselves. Such statements can lead to paradoxes. An example is, this statement is false. If the statement is true, it is false. And if the statement is false, it is true. Another example is, the barber of Corfu shaves every man who does not shave himself. Who shaves the barber? If he shaves himself, then he doesn't, and if he doesn't, then he does. Godel went to great lengths to avoid such paradoxes by carefully distinguishing between mathematics, like 2+2 =4, and meta mathematics, or statements about mathematics, such as mathematics is cool, or mathematics is consistent. That is why his paper is so difficult to read. But the idea is quite simple. .... consider the self referring Godel statement, G. This is, the statement G can not be demonstrated from the axioms of mathematics. Suppose that G could be demonstrated. Then the axioms must be inconsistent because one could both demonstrate G and show that it can not be demonstrated. On the other hand, if G can't be demonstrated, then G is true. By the mapping into numbers, it corresponds to a true relation between numbers, but one which can not be deduced from the axioms. Thus mathematics is either inconsistent or incomplete. The smart money is on incomplete.

What is the relation between Godel’s theorem and whether we can formulate the theory of the universe in terms of a finite number of principles? One connection is obvious. According to the positivist philosophy of science, a physical theory is a mathematical model. So if there are mathematical results that can not be proved, there are physical problems that can not be predicted. One example might be the Goldbach conjecture. Given an even number of wood blocks, can you always divide them into two piles, each of which can not be arranged in a rectangle? That is, it contains a prime number of blocks.

Although this is incompleteness of sort, it is not the kind of unpredictability I mean. Given a specific number of blocks, one can determine with a finite number of trials whether they can be divided into two primes. But I think that quantum theory and gravity together, introduces a new element into the discussion that wasn't present with classical Newtonian theory. In the standard positivist approach to the philosophy of science, physical theories live rent free in a Platonic heaven of ideal mathematical models. That is, a model can be arbitrarily detailed and can contain an arbitrary amount of information without affecting the universes they describe. But we are not angels, who view the universe from the outside. Instead, we and our models are both part of the universe we are describing. Thus a physical theory is self referencing, like in Godel’s theorem. One might therefore expect it to be either inconsistent or incomplete. The theories we have so far are both inconsistent and incomplete.

 

.........

Some people will be very disappointed if there is not an ultimate theory that can be formulated as a finite number of principles. I used to belong to that camp, but I have changed my mind. I'm now glad that our search for understanding will never come to an end, and that we will always have the challenge of new discovery. Without it, we would stagnate. Godel’s theorem ensured there would always be a job for mathematicians. I think M theory will do the same for physicists. I'm sure Dirac would have approved.

Thank you for listening.  
 

Stephen Hawking

Source: http://www.hawking.org.uk/index.php/lectures/publiclectures/91 

A lesson for us from monkeys

How Bhagavan saved a Muslim Contractor

This happened in 1908 when Bhagavan was staying in the Pachaiamman Temple. There were many tamarind trees surrounding the temple. The Municipality gave to the highest bidder the monopoly to collect tamarinds from these trees every year.

That year a Muslim got the monopoly. As these trees gave an unusually rich yield, the contractor himself was guarding the trees from the monkeys, whom he drove away by pelting stones at them with a sling. As he wanted only to scare them away, he took care to see that they were not injured. But unfortunately, a stone from his sling hit a monkey on its head so hard that it died on the spot. Immediately a large number of monkeys surrounded the dead monkey and began to wail and lament the death of their dear one. Then, by way of complaint, they took the dead monkey to the Swami in the Pachaiamman temple.

These monkeys considered Bhagavan their friend and well wisher not only because he often satisfactorily settled their internal disputes but also because he made happy compromises between their rival groups and thus re-established peace and harmony among them. So, in this hour of grief, they resorted to him for consolation and redress, with the corpse as an irrefutable testimony.

As soon as they came near Bhagavan, they burst into bitter cries and tears. The Swami, whose heart melted with pity for all creatures, could not bear their soulful wailing. Tears trickled down his cheeks. Gradually his tender sympathy soothed the monkeys. Then consoling them Bhagavan said, "For everyone who is born death is inevitable. He at whose hands this monkey died will certainly also meet with death one day. So, you need not grieve."

The monkeys were fully pacified at these words and they went away carrying the corpse with them. It so happened that, within two or three days, the Muslim contractor was bedridden with a serious malady. The story of the consolation given by Brahmana Swami to the aggrieved monkeys spread from mouth to mouth, till it reached the home of the Muslim contractor. The members of his family were convinced that his sudden illness was due to the curse of the sage. They therefore went to Pachaiamman Temple and began to plead for the Swami's pardon for the ailing contractor. They prayed to the Swami as follows: "It is certain that your curse that your curse has hit him. We beseech you to be gracious enough to save him from death. Please deign to give us some vibhuti so that you can apply to his body. He will then surely recover."

With a benign smile the Swami replied, "You are mistaken. I never curse or bless anyone. I sent away the monkeys who came here, by telling them the simple truth that death inevitable comes to all who are born. Moreover, I never give vibhuti to anyone. So please go home and nurse the patient whom you have left alone."

But the Muslims were determined and they declared their resolve not to move without getting the vibhuti. So, just to free himself from them, the Swami gave them a pinch of from the burning fire. On receiving it, their faces beamed with joy. They returned home after expressing their deep gratitude to the sage. And it came to pass that after the vibhuti was applied to the contractor, he began to recover and in a few days he rose from his bed!

A Cup of Tea

Nan-in, a Japanese master during the Meiji era (1868-1912), received a university professor who came to inquire about Zen.


Nan-in served tea. He poured his visitor's cup full, and then kept on pouring. 

The professor watched the overflow until he no longer could restrain himself. "It is overfull. No more will go in!"

"Like this cup," Nan-in said, "you are full of your own opinions and speculations. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?" 

Source

Remain what you are

It was a summer evening, and we were all sitting outside in the open space
by the well. Suddenly one of the visitors started weeping bitterly.

'I am a horrible sinner. For a long time I have been coming to you, but
there is no change in me. Can I become pure at last? How long am I to wait?
When I am here near you, I am good for a time. But when I leave this place,
I become a beast again. You cannot imagine how bad I can be -- hardly a
human being. Am I to remain a sinner forever?'

'Why do you come to me? What have I to do with you?' demanded Bhagavan.
'What is there between us that you should come here and weep and cry in
front of me?'

The man started moaning and crying even more, as if his heart were breaking.

'All my hopes of salvation are gone. You were my last refuge and you say you
have nothing to do with me! To whom shall I turn now? What am I to do? To
whom am I to go?'

Bhagavan watched him for some time and said, 'Am I your Guru that I should
be responsible for your salvation? Have I ever said that I am your Master?'

'If you are not my Master, then who is? And who are you, if not my Master?
You are my Guru. You are my guardian angel. You must take pity me and
release me from my sins!'

He started sobbing and crying again.

We all sat silent, overcome with pity. Only Bhagavan looked alert and
matter-of-fact.

'If I am your Guru, what are my fees? Surely you should pay me for my
services.'

'But you won't take anything,' cried the visitor. 'What can I give you?'

'Did I ever say that I don't take anything? And did you ever ask me what you
can give me?'

'If you would take, then ask me. There is nothing I would not give you.'

'All right. Now I am asking. Give me. What will you give me?'

'Take anything. Everything I have is yours.'

'Then give me all the good you have done in this world.'

'What good could I have done? I have not a single virtue to my credit.'

'You have promised to give. Now give. Don't talk of your credit. Just give
away all the good you have done in your past.'

'Yes, I shall give. But how does one give? Tell me how the giving is done
and I shall give.'

'Say like this: "All the good I have done in the past I am giving away
entirely to my Guru. Henceforth I have no merit from it nor have I any
concern with it." Say it with your whole heart.'

'All right, Swami. "I am giving away to you all the good I have done so far,
if I have done any, and all its good effects. I am giving it to you gladly,
for you are my Master and you are asking me to give it all away to you.'

'But this is not enough,' said Bhagavan sternly.

'I gave you all I have and all you asked me to give. I have nothing more to
give.'

'No, you have. Give me all your sins.'

The man looked wildly at Bhagavan, terror stricken.

'You do not know, Swami, what you are asking for. If you knew, you would not
ask me. If you take over my sins, your body will rot and burn. You do not
know me, you do not know my sins. Please do not ask me for my sins.'

He wept bitterly.

'I shall look after myself. Don't you worry about me,' said Bhagavan. 'All I
want from you is your sins.'

For a long time the bargain would not go through. The man refused to part
with his sins. But Bhagavan was adamant.

'Either give me your sins along with your merits, or keep both and don't
think of me as your Master."

In the end the visitor's scruples broke down and he declared, 'Whatever sins
I have done, they are no longer mine. All of them and their results, too,
belong to Ramana.'

Bhagavan seemed to be satisfied. 'From now on there is no good nor bad in
you. You are just pure. Go and do nothing, either good or bad. Remain
yourself. Remain what you are.'

A great peace fell over the man and over us all. No one knows what happened
to the fortunate visitor, for he was never seen in the ashram again. He
might have had no further need to come.

A Weary Pilgrim on the road

A famous spiritual teacher came to the front door of the King's palace. None of the guards tried to stop him as he entered and made his way to where the King himself was sitting on his throne.

"What do you want?" asked the King, immediately recognizing the visitor.

"I would like a place to sleep in this inn," replied the teacher.

"But this is not an inn," said the King, "It is my palace."

"May I ask who owned this palace before you?"

"My father. He is dead."

"And who owned it before him?"

"My grandfather. He too is dead."

"And this place where people live for a short time and then move on - did I hear you say that it is NOT an inn?"

Source

Doing Nothing

A very learned devotee asked Bhagavan (Ramana Maharshi) a question about the feeling of non-doership in Jnanis.

Bhagavan did not reply directly to the question. Instead, he looked at a little girl of around three (G.V.Subbaramayya's younger daughter) who was playing with all the things on Bhagavan's side-table.

Watching her, as she was busily rearranging and occasionally dropping books, Bhagavan's staff,etc. He asked her what she was doing.

She told Bhagavan, in the manner of all kids, that she was doing nothing. And promptly went back to attacking all the items on the table.

Bhagavan asked her again if she was doing something, and got the same answer.

Bhagavan smilingly told the questioner that this was the essence of Vedanta, i.e., Jnanis, even while outwardly appearing busy, never have the feeling that they are doing anything.

Without Fear

During the civil wars in feudal Japan, an invading army would quickly sweep into a town and take control. In one particular village, everyone fled just before the army arrived - everyone except the Zen master. Curious about this old fellow, the general went to the temple to see for himself what kind of man this master was. 

When he wasn't treated with the deference and submissiveness to which he was accustomed, the general burst into anger. "You fool," he shouted as he reached for his sword, "don't you realize you are standing before a man who could run you through without blinking an eye!" But despite the threat, the master seemed unmoved. "And do you realize," the master replied calmly, "that you are standing before a man who can be run through without blinking an eye?"



Source: http://www-usr.rider.edu/~suler/zenstory/nofear.html

No Limits, Jonathan ?

Fletcher turned to his instructor, and there was a moment of fright in his eye. "Me leading? What do you mean, me leading? You're the instructor here. You can't leave!" 

"Couldn't I? Don't you think that there might be other flocks, other Fletchers, that need an instructor more than this one, that's on its way toward the light?"

"Me? Jonathan, I'm just a plain seagull, and you're ..."

Jonathan sighed and looked out to sea. "You don't need me any longer. You need to keep finding yourself, a little more each day, that real, unlimited Fletcher Seagull. He's your instructor. You need to understand him and to practice him."

A moment later Jonathan's body wavered in the air, shimmering, and began to go transparent. "Don't let them spread silly rumors about me, or make me a God. O.K., Fletch? I'm a seagull. I like to fly, maybe ..."

"JONATHAN!"

"Poor Fletch. Don't believe what your eyes are telling you. All they show is limitation. Look with your understanding, find out what you already know, and you'll see the way to fly." 

The shimmering stopped. Jonathan Seagull had vanished into empty air.

After a time, Fletcher Gull dragged himself into the sky and faced a brand-new group of students, eager for their first lesson.

"To begin with," he said heavily, "you've got to understand that a seagull is an unlimited idea of freedom ... and your whole body, from wingtip to wingtip, is nothing more than your thought itself."

The young gulls looked at him quizzically. Hey, man, they thought, this doesn't sound like a rule for a loop.

Fletcher sighed and started over. "Hm. Ah... very well," he said, and eyed them critically. "Let's begin with Level Flight." and saying that, he understood all at once that his friend had quite honestly been no more divine than Fletcher himself.

And though he tried to look properly severe for his students, Fletcher Seagull suddenly saw them all as they really were, just for a moment, and he more than liked, he loved what it was he saw.  

No limits, Jonathan? he thought, and he smiled. His race to learn had begun. 

Richard Bach
Jonathan Livingston Seagull
Scribner, New York, 1970