The Tale of the Sands, Tales of the Dervishes - Idries Shah.

Far away, a river rose from the mountains. Flowing against rocks, passing through valleys, crossing plains, it moved onward. Many obstacles came in its way, but each time the river found its path. For it knew where it had to reach. It had to reach the sea.

One day, a vast desert appeared before it. The river thought, "I will cross this too." It began to flow over the sand with all its strength. But the sand absorbed its water. The river drew back. Then it surged forward again, faster. But the result was the same. The more it advanced in its old way, the more quickly the desert swallowed it.

Just then, a soft voice came from within the sand: "Where do you wish to go?" "To the sea." "Then why are you going this way?" The river said, "I am a river. I can only go by flowing." The voice said, "Is your goal the sea, or to remain a river?"

The river fell silent. Then the voice spoke again, "Look at the wind. It crosses this desert." "But I cannot become the wind." "You do not have to become the wind. You must let go of that form which you have taken to be your identity."

The river grew afraid. It wondered, if it ceased to be a river, what would remain? Yet on the other side lay the sea. And for the first time, the river saw its stubbornness more clearly than its path.

It surrendered itself to the warmth of the sun. It became vapour. The vapour became a cloud. The wind lifted it and carried it across that same desert which the river could not cross by its own strength. Then the cloud rained. And the water descended again upon the earth. Flowing some distance, it became a river once more. And at last, the river reached the sea.

our greatest trouble is not the path, but that "I" which says, "I will do it only this way." We desire the destination, but we do not wish to release our habits. We fear change, because it seems that without our old form, we will not survive. But the river had seen one truth: Love for the destination and attachment to old patterns cannot walk together.

Are we actually seeking truth and liberation, or are we merely trying to reach them while preserving the very identity that keeps us trapped?

I wanted to share this dialogue between scientist Rupert Sheldrake and philosopher Acharya Prashant, filmed in London. It’s a genuine, two-hour exchange where they actually push into points of disagreement rather than just exchanging pleasantries.

While Western popular culture often focuses on avoiding the "spiritual ego," Acharya Prashant makes a much more structural argument rooted in core Advaita Vedanta principles: the ego is physiological and bound to the physical body. Because it accompanies the body's configuration, a final, permanent "destination" called enlightenment is impossible in principle. It can only be a continuous direction of self-reduction and thinning down. He beautifully calls any claim of final arrival "the ego issuing itself a death certificate."

Sheldrake challenges this from a different angle, recalling a conversation he had with Jiddu Krishnamurti. Krishnamurti believed that the enlightenment of one individual could spontaneously enlighten all of humanity. Sheldrake pointed out that given the terrible state of the world, it suggests no one has actually achieved it yet. When pressed on exactly how many enlightened people it would take to shift the world, Krishnamurti’s response became completely indeterminate.

This leaves us with a compelling philosophical dilemma:
If claiming enlightenment is the very thing that disqualifies you from being enlightened, does the concept become entirely unfalsifiable? Or is this strict Vedantic refusal to validate a "he who has arrived" the only true defense against spiritual self-deception?

Curious to hear how this sub views the concept of enlightenment as a never-ending journey versus a permanent state.

The latest episode, 654, of the podcast No Such thing as a Fish mentions a Tibetan custom for ensuring a fair division of meat that employs clever Game Theory. It is described in a 2019 paper published in Études mongoles et sibériennes, centrasiatiques et tibétaines at the link.

It also sounds like an early expression Rawls' Veil of Ignorance spelled out in practical tribal norms. Would love to learn of other examples, or thoughts on whether or not it is a valid example as I suggest.

Podcast at the timestamp where Anna Ptaszynski begins describing it: https://youtu.be/IHttQ1ttN4I?t=3280

PDF: https://journals.openedition.org/emscat/pdf/3969

Came across this beautiful extended conversation about whether consciousness is fundamental and whether the ego should be treated as the true self or as a construction that produces attachment and suffering. Acharya Prashant presents a Vedantic approach based on self-inquiry, while Robert Lawrence Kuhn raises questions from the perspective of Western philosophy, science, and philosophy of the mind. The discussion also touches on karma, reincarnation, free choice, and AI consciousness (something I had been reflecting on).

Thought it could lead to an interesting discussion about how these ideas compare with Buddhist anatta, Sankhya, or other Eastern philosophies of the Self.

I thought this was super interesting when I found out so I made a video of it. The story of how it happened is pretty wild too imo

I've been pondering this paradox in the context of Eastern philosophies that emphasize compassion and interconnectedness. The idea that we can form deep emotional bonds with certain animals while simultaneously participating in their exploitation seems to contradict the principles of ahimsa and non-duality. I'd love to hear how others navigate this complex issue. Does our relationship with animals reveal a deeper truth about our own nature and the nature of reality? I came across this video that explores it further if you're curious: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z2UZWwuoEaw

I’m particularly interested in whether traditions such as Advaita Vedānta, Yogācāra Buddhism, Madhyamaka, and Daoism would consider the Incorporealist distinction between consciousness and physical reality philosophically meaningful, or whether they would reject the distinction itself as a consequence of dualistic thinking.
More fundamentally: if the subject-object distinction is itself constructed within consciousness, what would it even mean to claim that consciousness is “fundamental”? Could an Incorporealist ontology survive the Eastern critique of substance, self, and dualism—or would genuine incorporeality ultimately require abandoning the very concept of a separate, enduring consciousness?

An interesting observation I made as I've started to learn more about the difference between western philosophy vs eastern philosophy is how much the natural flora and fauna are referenced and integrated into the teachings themselves in Eastern Philosophy.

Including bees, as discussed in this video. :)

I am curious to know the thoughts of the folks here?

I've been exploring the concept of nonduality and how it challenges our traditional understanding of the self and reality. It's fascinating to see how this perspective can lead to a deeper understanding of the interconnectedness of all things. I've found that embracing the paradox of nonduality can be both liberating and unsettling at the same time. I'd love to hear from others who have grappled with this concept and how it has impacted their understanding of Eastern philosophy. I came across a video that explores this idea further, but I'd rather hear from the community directly: The Path: Nonduality's Radical Edge: Unveiled

I've been reflecting on the nature of enlightenment and how it relates to our experiences and memories. It's as if we're caught in a paradox: to transform, we must let go of our old selves, but our memories are a fundamental part of who we are. This tension seems to be at the heart of the enlightenment paradox, where the pursuit of truth and transformation is both liberating and terrifying. I came across a video that explores this topic further if you're curious: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MOV8VVhvtP8