WISE CRACKS

(Essay 7 in the Perennial Psychology Series)

‘An elephant and a mouse who were in love decided to get married. On their wedding night, the elephant keeled over and died. The mouse said: “Oh Fate! I have bartered one moment of pleasure for a lifetime of digging a grave!”’[1]

‘Someone engaged in self-study should not have a fool for a teacher’

Proverb

The perennial psychology can be very funny. It can make you laugh out loud. Participating as part of an evolutionary process is not all serious faces and sternness. On the contrary, a good sense of humour is definitely required. All applicants for the post must know at least one good joke. If you don’t have a sense of humour, please don’t apply. Go and find yourself some good dogma to chew on.

            There was once a man who joined a distance-learning course in bodybuilding. As soon as he had read through all the documents, he sent them an email: ‘Dear Sir/Madam, I have now read through all your lessons. Please send me the muscles.’ Believe it or not, many so-called ‘spiritual aspirants’ display a similar manner. And a little bit of humour can often go a long way. Serious issues can sometimes be better grasped with a sprinkling of humour. The mix of humour with a developmental path may involve a bit of give and take. Yet people usually act quite strange when it comes to the issue of negotiation or payment:

A person went to see a life coach to get some advice. ‘Well,’ began the coach, ‘you must do this three times a week but never this…I wouldn’t advise eating these things for your concentration but you can eat these…don’t do this…but try doing the other but not too often…you must …’ etc, etc, droned on the coach until the person eventually stood up and began to walk out. ‘Hey,’ called out the coach, ‘you haven’t paid me for my advice yet!’ ‘That’s because I’m not taking it,’ they replied back.

The modern ‘self-help’ marketplace, to give it its lowest form, is like a buyer’s market. Like all transactions, people pay and expect something in return. An eager student goes to visit a local well-known guitar teacher and asks how much it will cost to have private tuition. ‘Well,’ says the teacher. ‘It will cost fifty dollars per hour for the first month of tuition. After that, it will be thirty dollars per hour.’ ‘Great,’ replies the eager student, ‘I’ll start with the second month.’

Material in the form of humour is able to slip beyond the guardian of the ‘Old Villain’ – the complex of automatic thinking, conditioning, and assumptions which often regulate a person’s lower perception. Humour and jokes have a way of being passed on, often veraciously, like a virus in the form of popular memes. Humour has a habit of going a long, long way. Humour disturbs our conditioning and annoys those people who prefer to adhere strictly to theirs. Hence, humour is often a good tool for testing the waters of flexibility, adaptability, and receptibility. Genuine developmental paths work with humour in one form or another, according to necessity.

One of the good things about humour is that its absence can be easily spotted. People without humour are easily identifiable. Yet real humour is not the slipping-on-banana-skin type of style. It is about how one views the world, and a point of observation that can step away from the norm. Banal, slapstick humour is more often associated with gurus than with genuine guides. Humour can be an accomplished instrument in showing up false situations or superficial behaviour. At the same time, it is often best not to explain just how the jokes and humour are used, as it detracts from its impact. Just like magicians don’t like to reveal how the magic works as it would lose its appeal. The ‘magic’ of such a thing is in its impact upon the receiver – actually ‘how’ the process functions is a question of technicality.

Of course, it is often asked: ‘how can jokes and such humour be developmental tools? Surely, they’re just there to make us laugh?’ Perhaps such people should just enjoy laughing and not concern themselves with oppositional behaviour. Unless, that is, they suffer from the widespread disease of ‘I need to be confrontational.’ It is also recognized that those people conditioned into certain ideologies often oppose most strongly the use of humour. I wonder how many people of ‘faith’ would find the following funny:

Three explorers – a priest, a businessman and a mystic – were passing through a dangerous jungle. As the journey continued the jungle became increasingly dangerous. As each day passed the animals appeared larger, more hostile, and eventually began to follow the three explorers.

Eventually the three explorers had to take refuge by climbing up a tree for fear they would be attacked. After convening a council to discuss the situation they decided that one of them would have to go and seek help. After all, they could only stay up in the tree so many days before they succumbed to hunger, thirst, and fatigue. And none of the explorers wished to fall into the mouth of a ravenous beast below. But they could not decide which one of them should go.

‘Not me,’ said the priest. ‘I am a servant of God and I need to stay behind to comfort the remaining person.

‘Well, certainly not me,’ said the businessman, ‘because I am paying for the trip!’

The mystic said nothing, but then suddenly pushed the priest off from the tree. The priest fell to the ground. Immediately a ferocious pack of wolves surrounded the priest but instead of attacking him they defended him against the rest of the hungry animals. After fighting off the rest, they placed the priest on the back of their largest wolf and carefully escorted him to safety.

‘It’s a miracle!’ cried the businessman. ‘After all your cruelty, divine intervention decided to save that good man. And this has also restored my faith in a holy life.’

‘Hold on, not so fast,’ said the mystic. ‘There is in fact another explanation for what you see.’

‘What other explanation can there possibly be?’ shouted the businessman angrily.

‘Simply this – that it takes one to know one,’ replied the mystic, ‘and that the smallest always recognize their leader and honour him…’

Adopting beliefs can serve as a form of camouflage. It can be useful to check such conditioning by seeing whether certain humour can be endured.

Humour serves many different functions. Genuine developmental humour is an instrumental tool. It has various levels of meaning and receptivity. It does not operate solely to provide a single impact; although a single impact may only be perceived. A person may come to understand different aspects of a joke according to their mental or emotional state. Or it may require several exposures. How many times have we read a joke before we actually had the ‘aha’ effect? It may take the right moment. Our conditioned watchfulness may need to be caught off-guard.

Likewise, a person’s reaction to a joke can tell a skilled observer many things about their state or perception. Jokes, if anything, are useful diagnostic tools. After all, a person may just not find certain jokes funny. Such as this one:

A tourist visits an ancient sacred temple in Asia. The guide, with great awe and reverence, is pointing out the various aspects of the sanctuary when they come to the alter. ‘What’s that?’ asks the tourist, pointing to a light burning upon the alter. With a hushed voice the guide remarks that the flame has been burning for at least a thousand years. The tourist immediately steps forward and blows it out. ‘Well, now it’s stopped, hasn’t it?’

Immediate action is not always a person’s preferred mode of behaviour. Others may prefer the more reflective route. Yet active or reflective, we are still beset by an abundance of assumptions. No more so than when it comes to a so-called ‘spiritual path.’ People tend to believe that a person of ‘spirit’ must act in ways that accord to certain individual or cultural values. Here’s one take on this:

A western seeker-of-truth finally hears about a spiritual community where the aspirants neither eat meat nor smoke. Finally, they think to themselves, a place where they take such matters seriously. After all, eating meat means keeping animals in captivity, and which is also bad for environmental resources. Furthermore, smoking will only give you lung cancer. So off they go, and they gladly enrol into the centre. When they arrive into the main hall for lunch, they join all the other aspirants with their vegetable meals. Ah, they think, and such clean air too. Not a tobacco stain anywhere, and no dead-cooked animal carcass. Not surprisingly, even the older aspirants looked young and healthy. Later in the communal mediation hall they get to meet the Teacher of the community. Wow, thinks the new aspirant, this person doesn’t look a day over fifty. Back at the dormitory the new aspirant asks another – ‘How old is the Teacher? He looks so young!’

‘Oh,’ comes the reply, ‘he’s a hundred and twenty. I doubt any of us will ever reach such a venerable state. And he smokes twenty cigars a today and has fat, juicy steaks for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, now that he’s past being affected by such frivolities that bind the rest of us.’

Sacrosanct opinions and beliefs can sometimes soon turn into sanctimonious ones. How often have we called someone pious when they were only exhibiting conditioned behaviour?

‘A Pious Man’

‘One day, an Imam called the people of Nasrudin’s village together and delivered a sermon on the great deeds of the prophets. As he described the particularly noble achievements of one of these great men, Nasrudin suddenly burst into tears.

‘Look at this pious man!’ thundered the Imam. ‘He is so moved that he weeps.’

‘It’s true,’ sobbed the Mulla, ‘you do reduce me to tears. My favourite goat died this morning and I miss him terribly. When you shake your head as you talk, your beard reminds me of my dead goat and I am moved to tears.’ ¹

Good jokes are there to jolt the consciousness. They may also create a conflict with our conditioning.

In response to certain jokes we may not be sure whether to laugh or feign shock, knowing that companions, peers, or ‘social norms’ would expect of us that we be shocked. Sometimes a person may be afraid to laugh, thinking it will show others that they are disrespectful to this or that consensus custom. In modern times, there have been instances of ‘social comedians’ being harangued by the press, or even sued or taken to court over what is deemed ‘unacceptable language’ – meaning, they have offended certain social norms. A modern form of ‘language censorship’ has arisen to restrain particular freedoms of speech. In many cases, one is afraid of offending somebody in case of libel action. People may walk on tiptoes, but humour does not.

A western Christian missionary was kidnapped whilst visiting a remote tribal area. He was taken to the head tribe who, being cannibals, decided to eat the foreigner. They tied him up and put him in a large cooking pot and placed him over a low fire. Then the cannibals clasped their hands together and began to prey.

‘Hey, hey,’ shouted the man. ‘You are Christians, you are Christians!’

‘Yes,’ replied the head tribesman. ‘Not only are we Christians, we also do not like to be disturbed when we are praying!’

There is also a lot of unconscious humour present in daily life through circumstances and regular encounters. Life is funny in many ways, and not all of it predictable or recognizable.

Some jokes can present situations within a truthful light:

One day there was a mayor who decided that he could, and would, make all the inhabitants of his city observe the truth. He devised a plan that would make them all practice truthfulness.

Now to enter the mayor’s city you had to cross over a bridge. And upon this bridge the mayor built a hangman’s gallows. Soon after, when all was complete, the city gates were re-opened, and the Captain of the Guard was stationed with a squad of troops to examine all who entered.

An announcement was made: ‘Everyone will be questioned. If they tell the truth, they will be allowed to enter. If anyone lies, they will be hanged.

A simple farmer stepped forward.

‘Where are you going and what is your business?’

‘I am on my way to be hanged,’ replied the farmer.

‘We don’t believe you!’

‘Very well, if I have told a lie, hang me!’

‘But if we hang you for lying,’ replied the Captain of the Guard, ‘we will have made what you said be the truth!’

‘That’s right: now you know what truth is – YOUR truth!’

Life itself can present us with humorous situations from which we can learn. Yet this does not mean that what is good for one’s ordinary life is necessarily good for a developmental context. Whilst the two paths can – and indeed should – operate together harmoniously, the materials for one may not be appropriate for the other. Luck in life, as they say, may not bring luck in the other:

An oil-drilling millionaire went one day to his dentist in order to have some dental treatment.

‘Which tooth is it you wish me to deal with today?’ asked the dentist.

‘Oh, drill away anywhere,’ replied the oil tycoon, ‘I feel lucky today.’

Having the materials in one’s hands – such as a book – is no short-cut to an end result.

A lady was walking through her local country village carrying home some meat which she had just bought from the butcher. In her other hand she was holding a recipe for meat stew which her friend had just given to her after leaving the butchers. As she was about to reach her house a buzzard swooped down and carried off the meat.

‘You fool!’ shouted the lady. ‘You may well have the meat, but I still have the recipe!’

Certain materials can provide the ingredients, yet a person still requires the knowledge of how to apply them – as well as the correct form of heat.

Applying the correct process requires active knowledge. As the saying goes - ‘If you insist on buying poor food, you must be prepared to dislike it at the serving.’ The ‘food’ that is put into the cooking (i.e., ourselves) will dictate the ‘taste’ (result) at the end of the cooking (developmental path). That is, we must be prepared to put in the correct effort ourselves – otherwise we may end up getting very wet!

A rich landowner one day invited one of his neighbours, a simple farmer, to go hunting with him and his friends. He thought it might be an amusing episode, and so gave the farmer a horse that was notoriously slow. The farmer noticed this immediately yet said nothing. Soon the hunt had begun, and the farmer was outpaced by all the faster horses. It then began to rain heavily and there was nowhere near enough to take shelter. All the members of the hunt got soaked through. The simple farmer, however, as soon as the rain started, had taken off all his clothes, folded them in a small, neat pile and sat on top of them. As soon as the rain stopped, he got dressed again and made his way to his host’s house for lunch. Everybody else was wet through and couldn’t understand how the famer had arrived back seemingly dry. Despite the great speed of their horses, none of them had managed to reach the far shelter in time.

‘It was the horse you gave me,’ said the farmer when questioned.

The next time there was a hunt the farmer was invited again, and this time given a fast horse. The landowner decided that on this occasion he would take the reputedly slower horse. Again, a great rainstorm fell down and everyone got soaked through as before. Yet this time the landowner got wetter than ever, taking longer to arrive back home. The farmer, as previously, had done the same by sitting upon his folded pile of clothes. Upon returning to his host’s house everyone was surprised to see him dry once more.

‘Look at me, I’m drenched!’ shouted the host, ‘and it’s all your fault. You made me ride that terrible horse!’

‘Perhaps,’ said the farmer, ‘you did not contribute anything of your own to the problem of keeping dry?’

Social conditioning has been set-up to persuade people to place responsibility upon an external dependency. That is, some form of ‘expert’ will provide the needed result. This is also the same mentality that pervades most educational institutions. Parents pay money to send their children to school. They then complain when their child does not finish with a good result. It is assumed to be the school or teachers’ fault. The same applies to how a developmental path is often measured:

A student had been attending a teaching group for several years. On a regular basis they had been attending the meetings and listening to the discourses of the teacher. After a number of years, however, the student began showing signs of restlessness. The teacher called the student in for a private talk.

‘I have been giving you teachings and indications for a number of years now, and yet I fail to see any progress in you. This has started to concern me.’

‘Ah, I’m glad you have finally noticed this,’ replied the student, ‘for I have been feeling for some months now that you are not trying hard enough!’

The modern seeker-of-truth is likely to suffer from varied assumptions upon what a developmental path should be. In fact, this has always been the case. Unlike other cultural manifestations, the perennial psychology has little interest in excitement and attention seeking. It is unlikely to put on any shows, nor will there be any flashing neon signs around the neighbourhood. The signs that are available will be subtle. As the saying goes – ‘A sign is enough for the alert, but a thousand counsels are not enough for the negligent.’ It is often said that people should observe others as this can act as mirrors to recognize one’s own behaviour. What they don’t say in the same breath is that a mirror is also a means of laughing in your own face.

Upon the perennial path the importance of speaking with people according to their own understanding is well-recognized. As it is here:

A man had fallen onto the rails in an Underground station minutes before the next train was about to arrive. People were crowding around the man and trying to get him out. They were all shouting ‘Give us your hand, give us your hand!’ Yet the man would not reach up.

A student of the Path saw what was going on and made his way through the crowd. He called down to the man, asking ‘Friend, what is your profession?’

‘I am an income tax inspector,’ cried out the man.

‘In that case,’ replied the student, ‘take my hand!’ The man immediately grasped the student’s hand and was hauled up to safety.

The student turned to face the stunned onlookers. ‘Never ask a tax man to give you anything, you fools!’ he said before walking away.

The truth of the matter is that people need to experience things for themselves. Words can be spoken until ‘we are blue in the face,’ as the expression goes. Only through experience can a person know how to act in any given situation – such as in the case of the tax inspector above. The perennial tradition is about providing the means for the aspirant to undergo their own experience. A guide upon the Path serves to direct a person into an experience; or provide the means or context for the experience to occur. They cannot ‘take the experience’ for them – it would be like eating the food reserved for the other. Such methods do not provide nourishment for the seeker.

A teacher always told a parable at the end of each class, but not all the listeners would understand the meaning of it. One day one of them confronted the teacher and said:

‘You tell us stories but do not explain the meaning to us.’

The teacher apologized for this and then continued by saying:
‘Let me recompense you by offering you a juicy apple.’

‘Thank you, teacher,’ the student replied flattered.

‘First, I would like to peel this apple myself, would you allow me?’

‘Yes, thank you very much,’ replied the delighted student.

‘Since I already have a knife in my hand, let me take advantage of this and cut the apple into pieces so it will be more comfortable for you to eat.’

‘Thank you, teacher, I hope it is not too much trouble?’

‘Not at all, I just want to please you. Also, allow me to chew it before to make it easier for you to swallow.’

‘No teacher - don’t do that!’ shrieked the surprised student.

The teacher paused and said:
‘If I explain the meaning of each parable, it would be like feeding you a fruit chewed. You yourself have to find and savour its exquisite flavour. Only then will the fruit nourish you.’

Similarly, a father can teach their child how to ride a bike, for example, yet they cannot ride the bike for them. Unless a person acquires their own experience, they will not understand the context of the various circumstances that they are likely to come into contact with. This is why most perennial guides teach through show rather than tell, as in this tale:

A local guy made a wager with his friends that he could spend a whole winter’s night on top of a nearby mountain without any form of shelter. His friends bet against him and laughed at his proposal. So, the young man took a book, and a candle to read, and sat through one of the coldest nights he had ever experienced. In the morning, freezing and almost half-dead, he arrived back down. He then went to collect the money from his bet with his friends.

‘Didn’t you have anything at all to keep you warm?’ they asked.

‘Nothing,’ the young man replied.

‘Not a blanket? A woolly hat?’

‘Nope. Nothing.’

‘Not even a candle?’

‘Yes, I had a candle, so I could read.’

‘Then the bet is off!’ they cried.

The young man said nothing. Several weeks later he invited his friends around to his house for a huge supper. Everyone arrived and were excited at the prospect of the looming feast. They sat down and talked, waiting. Hours passed. Soon his friends started to mutter and get restless. They wanted to know when the food was coming.

‘Let’s go into the kitchen and have a look,’ suggested the young man. Everyone followed him into the kitchen and there they found a huge pot under which a single candle was burning. The contents of the pot were still cold.

‘It doesn’t appear to be ready yet,’ said the young man. ‘Strange though, it’s been there since yesterday.’

Without relevant and preparatory experience, all an aspiring seeker can expect to receive are the watered down, diluted versions of original truth. That is, a person may be feeding themselves upon second-hand news; or rather, upon the soup of the soup:

A farmer one day had one of his friends visit him from afar, and they brought a duck as a gift. The farmer was grateful and had the bird cooked and shared the meal with his guest.

Not long after another visitor arrived and said that he was a friend of the farmer’s friend who had visited not long before. ‘Remember,’ said the visitor, ‘the man who brought you the duck?’ The farmer warmly invited the visitor in and fed him. Shortly afterwards another visitor arrived who said he was ‘a friend of the friend of the one who brought the duck.’

This happened several times and the farmer’s house soon became a point of reference for most of the visitors coming into town. Finally, the farmer was frustrated and annoyed. One day there was a knock at the door and it was another visitor who said, ‘I am a friend of the friend of the friend of the friend of the man who brought you the duck.’

‘Come in,’ said the farmer. The visitor entered and sat himself down at the table to be fed. Shortly, the farmer brought a steaming bowl to the table and served his guest. When his guest tasted it, it seemed to be nothing more than hot water.

‘What is this?’ asked the guest.

‘That,’ replied the farmer, ‘is the soup of the soup of the soup of the soup of the duck.’

The perennial tradition recognizes that the seeker is both the walker and the path. As such, each individual aspirant has sufficient resources within them to begin upon the journey:

A yokel went into a shop that stocked all kinds of materials and bits and pieces.

He asked the shop owner, ‘Do you have any nails?’

‘Yes,’ said the owner.

‘And leather – some good leather?’

‘Yes, we have that too.’

‘And thread – some good, strong thread?’

‘Yes.’

‘And dye?’

‘Yes, we even have dye too.’

‘Then why on earth don’t you make yourself a pair of shoes?’

There is no excuse for not putting the first foot forward. Each individual can take the first step; after this though, they are likely to lack the wisdom and the understanding of how to see further along the path. For this reason, guides are placed on the Path for the seeker’s benefit:

The village fool one day boasted to all who could hear that he could see in the dark.

‘If that’s so,’ said one of the persons present, ‘why is it that I’ve often seen you at night carrying a lighted torch through the streets?’

‘Only to prevent other people from crashing into me,’ the fool replied.

The perennial psychology is not directed at a particular section of society, for no such ‘section’ exists. It is directed at a certain faculty that exists within all people. The perennial tradition exists when this faculty is actualized, or ‘awakened.’ This path is human life itself.

            As well as humorous tales and stories, the perennial psychology has also maintained a strong presence within literature; in many languages, and in almost all parts of the globe. Perennial wisdom has been present in some of the greatest known world literature.

Taken from ‘THE MODERN SEEKER: A Perennial Psychology for Contemporary Times’ (Beautiful Traitor Books, 2020). Available online as print & ebook.

References

¹ Shah, Idries. 2003. The World of Nasrudin. London: Octagon Press, p12.

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[1] Taken from The Commanding Self by Idries Shah