There once was a man who lived in medieval France. When he was seventeen he was implicated in a plot to kill the French king. His co-conspirators were hung but because of his youth he was thrown into a dungeon cell and promptly forgotten by all but the jailor who brought him his daily crust of bread and watery soup. He lived in perpetual darkness and slept on the damp stones. He was alone with no books to keep him company. He gradually went mad in his loneliness. Year after year went by and nothing happened except the man was brought some food and his slops emptied by a guard which he never saw nor spoke to. Once after fifteen years he was given a slice of gingerbread on Christmas day. This one act of generosity was the greatest thing which happened to him in that entire period.
After twenty years strange things began to happen. The man, now no longer young, began to think. He started at the beginning. He was, he existed. Then from there he built a cathedral of the mind. He extended his thinking to the structures of things and developed a kind of mathematics unique to him. Now, the universe began to open for him as he employed thought to extrapolate the existence of stars and galaxies. He saw, intuitively, the connections between life and the universe. Now, his days and nights were filled with wondrous discovery and insight. He looked forward to every waking moment and even in his dreams he was unraveling the threads of reality. He came to realize that nothing was as it seemed and that matter was just a form of energy in a matrix of probability.
He studied the stones of the gray walls that surrounded him and came to understand their structure. He could see the very patterns of the atoms and the bonds that held them. Then, one day, it all fell into place. He rose, and walked through the spaces in the atoms of the walls and into the sunlight.
He was free. ๑ Samsaran ๑By request for Tom