At the office, a colleague likes to talk about « Buddhism » with me. He stops by my desk the other day. He’s reading sutras, he says.
There’s a soccer match playing on the television nearby.
He likes what he reads, he says, but he adds that he’s discouraged because he can never remember what he reads. Or understand it.
Very good, I say.
The match is good? I can see him wondering, turning to the World Cup on TV. A nice play? A goal?
If you understood it, I say, it wouldn’t be it:
We can’t stand over or under what is neither here nor there.