Svetaketu and the Hidden Thing

A young man named Svetaketu came home after twelve long years away at school, and he was rather pleased with himself. He had learned so much, and he held his head high.

His father, the wise old sage Uddalaka, watched him and smiled gently. “You have learned a great deal,” he said. “But tell me, my son, did you learn the one thing by knowing which everything else is known?” Svetaketu blinked. He did not even know what his father meant. So Uddalaka taught him, not with hard words, but with simple things.

“Take this lump of salt,” he said, “and drop it into a bowl of water, and leave it overnight.” Svetaketu did. In the morning, his father said, “Now bring me back the salt.” But Svetaketu looked, and the salt was gone, dissolved away. “Taste the water from the top,” said his father. Svetaketu did. “Salty,” he said. “From the middle?” “Salty.” “From the bottom?” “Salty.” The salt had not vanished at all. It had simply spread into every single drop, everywhere, even though it could no longer be seen.

Then Uddalaka pointed to a great banyan tree, and asked his son to fetch one of its tiny fruits. “Break it open. What do you see?” “Tiny seeds,” said Svetaketu. “Break one open. Now what do you see?” Svetaketu peered closely. “Nothing, father. Nothing at all.” “And yet,” said Uddalaka softly, “out of that nothing you cannot see, this whole mighty tree has grown. The great tree was hidden inside the little seed all along.”

“There is a subtle something,” his father said, “too fine to see, that is the truth of everything there is. The salt in the water. The tree in the seed. And that same quiet, hidden something, my son, is also the truth of you. That thou art.”