Conversational Buddhas

He said still in his seat and sighed, blissfully sinking into the chair and conversation. His mind glided over images of his fellow creatures. “Nature abounds in absurdities.”

“How so?” She asked. Her feet rooted to the ground, drawing energy through non-motion and the turbulence of the inner, both of the Earth and of herself. She looked at the man across from her. He too was energy.

Her response pleased him – it gave him the illusion of authority. That this was an illusion was something he was mindful of. Yet he enjoyed it because he chose happiness in sharing this thoughts. He sought the pleasure of ideas given, and better – of questions answered. He would be teacher yes, but in the anticipation of being taught. “Well, take the platypus.”

A thought rose in her. An inner chuckle, playing with language like lightly tossing a ball to amuse her friend. “Where should I take this platypus?” There. The language gave her a moment of play; a twist to season the ideas.

“Very funny,” he admitted, and took infinite pleasure in the small witticism. He savored it exactly as long as he needed, then released the idea. It was temporary, his pleasure, as are all things. And it was eternal – the radiative joy lingered in him, dwarfed in his being, but not lost.

“The platypus is not that odd,” she said, holding the image and the idea of what generally defines a platypus in her mind. It was the form, not the substance, but the form would do. The spirit in her laughed at the idea of literally holding a platypus while discussing them, but she kept the idea only for herself. Not out of selfishness, but she was mindful of time – the time it would take to describe the idea would be more complicated than the idea itself. It would not be informationally efficient and the joy of the idea didn’t outdo the effort to explain it. She let go and eased back into the present. “Not when you consider that it evolved in a closed system.”

“True,” he nodded, adding the idea of his fellow seeker into his mind. He took enjoyment out of the micro-expansions her ideas afforded him. He felt lighter and freer. “I mean, everything makes sense it its environment. Australia is indeed a closed system, like you said.” He imagined all of the Universe in a closed system, isolated as a platypus. He realized then that in the conventionalisms of language the saying would not scan. He released the idea into nothingness from which all things appear and disappear.

“Indeed, it is well suited for its environment,” she said, nodding sagely. As are we all, she thought to herself. “Otherwise it would just be another fossil.” All things pass, she mused.; especially ourselves.

“I just love reading about weird animals,” he said, then thought I am one, too.