The Warren Buffet axiom of spiritual wholeness.

That is THE question.

“If you aren't willing to own a stock for ten years, don't even think about owning it for ten minutes.”—Warren Buffett

While nearly everyone is concerned about money right now, this is not a post about earning more or preserving what you may have. It is instead a post about not earning a living. I begin with that quote from Buffet because it aligns with the flip side of a spiritual principle that has made a difference in my life: 

“If your spiritual experience doesn't last 40 years, don't consider giving it credence for even 40 seconds.”

Of course, that’s only possible in hindsight after having lived an extended mortal life. Longevity comes along with a firm perspective that can only be established by looking backward and noticing two phases: 

• First is the phase of “chasing the white rabbit,” sparked by curiosity, wedded with the conviction that down a magical hole lies what Alice sought.

• The second phase answers Alice’s question of “who in the world am I ?” and despite her twisted journey, she says to the Queen of Hearts, “My name is Alice, so please your Majesty.”

What Alice doesn't learn, but we must, is that while Alice thinks she has affirmed her identity with a name, neither she nor we are a name, not even an identity. Our names may change, we may continue phase-one without realizing we are still on a quest to find ourselves, but no-one needs to go anywhere to find themselves.

But going on a quest is essential to have the experience that it is a trip to nowhere. Until then, we will continue the chase, or simply give up thinking we will ever honestly answer the question of “who in the world am I ?”. And that is where the flip side of Buffet’s investment philosophy comes into play. If we don’t give up, what all of us find is we are far, far beyond an identity, name, or any other means of defining ourselves. We are instead, contrary to the messages of our world, already complete, whole, and full of love. There is nowhere to go and nothing to possess that we don’t have already. That is not a fantasy, nor does it take place in “never-never-land.” Instead, it is real, and it takes place in “ever-ever-land.”   

“All beings by nature are Buddha,

As ice by nature is water.

Apart from water, there is no ice;

Apart from beings, no Buddha.

How sad that people ignore the near

And search for truth afar:

Like someone in the midst of water

Crying out in thirst,

Like a child of a wealthy home

Wandering among the poor.”

Zen Master Hakuin Ekaku’s Song of Zazen

 
As odd as this discovery might seem, our real nature is hidden beneath the one we think we are, as gold is hidden beneath what lies above.

Where are we going?

Any road to nowhere.

When you cut through the extraneous and get down to the fundamental issue, knowing where we are and where we’re going is kind of important. And I’m not referring to your next business or vacation trip. I’m referring to the ultimate destination if there is one. 

That’s a rhetorical “if” statement. Obviously, we are here, and just as obviously we will die, at least the physical house within which we live and have our being.

If we’re unsure of our ultimate destination then the Cheshire Cat (see image) is quite correct: Any road will take us there. On the other hand, if there is an ultimate destination then we are either heading for it by what we think and do or we aren’t. Many are persuaded there is no ultimate destination so it doesn’t matter. Any road will get them to nowhere.

However, many are persuaded they will go either up to heaven in the sky or down to the bowels of Hell. Consequently, these folks make an attempt to do what they can to hedge their bets against some nasty brimstone (call it an insurance policy against unknowing) by doing their best to be agents for good, which is not necessarily a bad thing but the motive is questionable. They kind of know they haven’t met the requisite conditions to get where they want to go, but just maybe it will happen anyway.

Such thinking overlooks the possibility that there is nowhere to go other than where we are. Yesterday is a memory-dream and tomorrow is speculation. So the trip destination is like being inside a giant room, unaware that you are, and thus desiring to be in that room. Of course, this room is an unconditional one and as such can’t be either here or there, tomorrow, today or yesterday. And why would that be? Because it is beyond conditions (unconditional). And if it is unconditional then we don’t have to wait for the grave to get there. We’re already there. And why is that? Because it’s unconditional.

All sentient beings have consciousness—ever-present yet without any defining properties. It is always here, and there—everywhere yet nowhere. And the true nature of consciousness is Shunyata (emptiness). The ultimate nature of the mind is empty like it states in the Heart Sutra: “Likewise, consciousness is Empty, and Emptiness is also consciousness. So, natural Tathagatagarbha is the emptiness of the mind.” There is nowhere to go where it is not so why go anywhere?

Granted this perspective is not your ordinary view, which says that our earthly life is separated from both the good and the bad future places, and which way we go depends on thinking and behaving our way into one or the other. This view has a name: duality, which is the anathema of religious thought. Of course, this idea would contradict the fundamental dogmas of religions, which splits the matter into separate departments. This latter would indeed keep us separated from our source and make our union an impossible task of never making a mistake, or miming a formula that has changed over time that requires you to admit that you’re a bum and incapable of satisfying the necessary conditions. So what’re your options? Letting our source do what it does.

But if IT is unconditional (and hasn’t gone on vacation) then he/she/it lives within us, outside of us, beyond time and circumstances. And if that is true then we’re in for a very short journey because our destination is right back where we started.

As unlikely as you may think, this outlandish idea is precisely what the parable of the Prodigal Son says—taught by Jesus—or if you prefer the Zen version, it is what Hakuin Zenji, one of the most influential figures in Japanese Zen Buddhism, taught. The following is from his famous Song of Zazen…

“From the beginning all beings are Buddha.
Like water and ice, without water no ice, outside us no Buddhas.
How near the truth, yet how far we seek.
Like one in water crying, ‘I thirst!’
Like the son of a rich man wand’ring poor on this earth, we endlessly circle the six worlds.
The cause of our sorrow is ego delusion.’”

So where are you going? And are you sure? In the end, it matters little whether you’re sure or not because what we believe has no bearing on what’s real. But knowing certainly makes the non-trip more interesting.

Belief and Truth

It is said that faith is more powerful than reality. I believe that it is. If I were to believe that I must have air to breathe and thought there was none, in spite of its ubiquitous presence, I would die from the lack. If I were to believe that I must have water and thought there was none I would die of thirst from that lack as well. When our beliefs (any at all) over-ride reality we suffer the consequences, in spite of what is real and true. If we are free yet believe that were are not, we are in bondage; poverty itself.

Many subscribe to the belief that in order to be spiritual it is necessary to embrace certain traditions, make specific statements of faith, and join with certain like-minded people as rites of passage to spiritual realms. The presumption here is that there is a formula that determines whether or not we are spiritual and acceptable to God. Perhaps the question is not how to be spiritual but rather, is it possible to not be spiritual at all. Believing that you are not spiritual (when you are) over-rides the reality in the same fashion that believing you need air when in the midst of air.

In The Song of Zazen, Hakuin Zenji said... “How sad that people ignore the near and search for truth afar: Like someone in the midst of water crying out in thirst; Like a child of a wealthy home wandering among the poor.” The story in the Bible about the Prodigal Son spoke the same truth.

Here is something to ponder—What is the spark which animates our being? Is it possible that we need to look no further than the end of our noses to discover what is ever-present? And isn’t it likely that we are crying out for God while in the midst of Spirit?

Probably the greatest Christian mystic to ever live was Meister Eckhart. He said this regarding the chasm between ideas and reality. 

“Man’s last and highest parting occurs when for God’s sake he takes leave of god. St. Paul took leave of god for God’s sake and gave up all that he might get from god as well as all he might give—together with every idea of god. In parting with these he parted with god for God’s sake and God remained in him as God is in his own nature—not as he is conceived by anyone to be—nor yet as something yet to be achieved, but more as an is-ness, as God really is. Then he and God were a unit, that is pure unity. Thus one becomes that real person for whom there can be no suffering, any more than the divine essence can suffer.”

To experience the ubiquitous spiritual presence of God it is always necessary to get rid of the belief that God is absent and we must take action. God is transcendent but god is a distillation: Eckhart’s idea which must be cast aside. Such an idea is a distortion of reality and removes us from that which we seek to find.

Selling snowballs to Eskimos

There’s a fundamental law of economics: People will purchase things they feel they need. No perceived need=No demand=No sale. The entire economic engine begins with that fundamental understanding. The next principle that emerges from that one is that demand must be stimulated. People may actually have a need but are not aware of solutions. Or, no, actually, there is no need, but instead, there is a want. 

That’s where marketing and advertising come into play. As an ex-marketing man, I understand both of these building blocks, which are foundational to economic success. If I wanted to create a commercial success, it was first necessary to persuade someone that what they experienced as a want, was actually a need, and the best way to do that is by telling half-truths. 

I have never seen a successful marketing campaign that told the whole truth. Instead, marketing people dwell on the part, which appeals to people they wish to convert and intentionally avoid discussing the downside. The downside always comes along for the ride anyway, and often times that downside becomes apparent later, but by then, the sale has been made, and it’s too late to get your money back. There is no such thing as any product or service that is 100% good. In our ignorance, we are easily hoodwinked into being sold a bill of goods that looks to be without flaw.

I am no longer a marketing man. I am now a spiritual man. So what in the world does this have to do with spiritual matters? Simple: Snowballs. The most fundamental of all sales jobs is to persuade people that they are inadequate, in any and every way. If that can be done, then the rest is a piece of cake. What we believe about ourselves, fundamentally, lays the ground for everything that follows. If I think I am inadequate, then I will be open to making choices and buying things I don’t need but believe that I do. Nobody is going to be vulnerable and want to buy things when they are already adequate. That would be nuts. So the first task is to bring adequacy into question.

Fundamentally, that is what commercial life is all about: nothing more. Virtually from birth onwards to the grave, we are being sold a bill of goods about being inadequate. We are Eskimos with plenty of snowballs but are being duped into believing that we need more. If you want to put that into a spiritual context, try this on for size: “Like one in water crying, ‘I thirst!’ Like the son of a rich man wandering poor on this earth we endlessly circle the six worlds.” 

That piece of wisdom comes from a very famous Zen Master (Hakuin Ekaku). If you prefer the same message from a Christian context, try the story of the Prodigal Son, who wandered away from his birthright of splendor and ate from the trough of pigs. And if you wonder how this might translate into the economic context of today’s world, click here and watch a humorous yet insightful summation of the challenges of our world today: The growing gap between the ultra-wealthy and the rest of us, international trade wars (for that matter, any war), an out-of-control Federal Debt, global climate change, massive world-wide immigration problems, restructuring the fabric of nations, the corruption of cherished values (such as telling the truth) and how our freedoms are compromised.

The half-truth of life is that we are inadequate. The whole truth is we are inadequate, and we are also adequate and complete already, at the same time. Both of these are true together. Neither is true alone. That’s the whole truth, and when we realize this whole truth, then only do we cease lusting for what we have already.

Living in a world of “alternate-facts.”

“Lies, damned lies, and statistics.”—Mark Twain

In prior times deception was the exception (or so it seemed). Now it appears to have become the norm, and more than ever we need to be able to discern truth from lies, but since liars lie it is not so easy. And when statistics get involved, there are many ways to spin the truth. It is the nature of a liar to lie. There are many reasons liars fabricate and distort the truth. But the most important reason of all is, liars think they are something they are not—an ego. 

According to the dictionary, an impostor is one who assumes a false identity, or title, for the purpose of deception. It is somewhat irrelevant if a liar knows they are an impostor. So long as liars lie, they are impostors. Until such time as we truly know, who and what we are, we are subject to deception, and I will be the first to admit, I have deceived and been deceived many times in my mortal lifetime, never realizing I too was an impostor. I thought I knew who I was, but I didn’t. Only when I knew I wasn’t what I thought—an ego, did I discover my true immortal self. Until then I suffered greatly, and like an impostor, inflicted suffering upon others. 

In the West, much of the wisdom of the world has been lost to us, as it was to me until I began to study and practice Eastern Wisdom from some of the world’s greatest sages. I have thus been exposed to many of, what must be considered from a Western perspective, outlier treasure conveyors from the East, a few of whom I wish to share in this post so that you too might begin to find your hidden, immortal selves, cease being a mortal impostor and begin to discern the truth.

Since I’ve been blessed with the study of wisdom from the East, I’ve become familiar with some Buddhist vocabulary, and corresponding, underlying meanings, which are also foreign to the West. Foremost among this Eastern Vocabulary is the word “Dharma” and Dharmakāya—Sanskrit, which means “truth body” or “reality body.” The Dharmakāya is the wellspring of all truth and discernment of what is real. It is neither eastern nor western.

Shantideva, an 8th-century Indian Buddhist scholar and an adherent of the Madhyamaka philosophy of Nāgārjuna said, “All the suffering in the world comes from seeking pleasure for oneself. All the happiness in the world comes from seeking pleasure for others.” And the driving force that produces this suffering is the ego: the idea we hold of our selves.

In similar fashion, Zen Master Hakuin Ekakuin in his Song of Zazen wrote, “How near the truth, yet how far we seek. Like one in water crying, ‘I thirst!’ Like the son of a rich man wandering poor on this earth we endlessly circle the six worlds. The cause of our sorrow is ego delusion.” 

When mediated through the illusion of an ego, morality becomes simplistic, inflexible, abstract and unjust, in spite of mortal intentions. In that case, the criteria are “what’s in it for me?” And from that vantage point, there is only a single sense of justice: Mine. 

In the Sutra of Complete Enlightenment, Chán Master Sheng-yen illustrates the relationship between the fabrication of our egos and our true nature by saying, “We practice (meaning meditation—zazen) until the self (ego) is gone. When the self disappears, all obstructions will be gone too. There cannot be a self (ego) that is free from all obstructions. If there is a sense of self, then there are also obstructions. There cannot be obstructions without a self to create and experience them, because the self (ego) is an obstruction. This is nondiscrimination of the highest order.” 

Our egos are an illusion, it tells us the half-truth that we are incomplete, not whole and imperfect and this, in turn, initiates desire: a greed response. What may (or may not) be known is that slowly, but surely, Eastern Wisdom is becoming human wisdom, lacking boundaries of either east or west. Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, captured the essential point when he said, “We are not human beings having spiritual experiences. We are spiritual beings having human experiences.” Some may say, I am not spiritually inclined but instead rely upon facts. 

Now facts are alternate, but the truth remains the truth, with no alternatives. Our mortal egos desire. Our immortal selves are already full and desire nothing. Truth has no boundaries. It is always whole, complete and perfect.“Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.”—The Buddha

Getting saved??

Where to throw the lifeline?

Let me state the obvious: Being saved requires someone to save. An extension of this thought concerns the apparent need to be saved. Only someone who believes they are lost need to worry him or herself with finding their way. 

A fool is someone who is not lost, isn’t yet remains convinced they are. Consequently, if someone is persuaded they need to be saved, only then does a savior make any sense. And this brings us to that central of all issues: duality and separation.

Where does the idea come from that “people of the book” (e.g., Jews, Christians, and Muslims) need saving? Those three religions hold a common understanding based on a shared segment of the Old Testament. The first five books—Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, the book of Numbers, and Deuteronomy—comprise the Torah, the story of Israel from the Genesis creation narrative to the death of Moses. Genesis is common to all three religions. Jews, Christians, and Muslims share the story of creation involving Adam and Eve, who allegedly disobeyed God by eating an apple and were cast out of paradise and thus in need of being saved. 

But (and this is a big “but”) since Adam and Eve were stained with sin (as well as their progeny), they were incapable of saving themselves and thus needed a savior. And here is where the story begins to divide amongst the Jews, Christians, and Muslims. All three accepted the inherent nature of mankind as fallen, being condemned by God due to original sin, but how they were reconciled significantly varied.

The Christian answer to this dilemma is that God took pity on mankind because he loved them so much that he “sent his only begotten son” to take the sins of the world upon himself and offer himself as a sacrifice to appease God (who demanded justice as recompense). By being crucified on a cross, died, was buried, overcame death by rising from the dead, and bringing the Holy Spirit to abide in the hearts of those who confessed their sinful nature and accepted Jesus as Lord and Savior. 

Only if that confession took place would God grant reconciliation, forgiveness and give believers a new heart filled with the Holy Spirit to replace an old heart that was filled with sin. In essence, that was, and is, the story that continues to inspire those who consider themselves as “born again.” Everyone else who chose to not accept this story was regarded as heretics and damned to Hell.

So the essence of this proposition boils down to believing in the original sin of Adam and Eve. If that part of the story breaks down, then the entire story of needing a savior likewise falls apart. I have written a commentary on this story, which speaks to some serious flaws in the story. It will convince no one who considers this creation story as historical fact and has closed his or her mind to alternate interpretations. Nevertheless, it is a reasonable commentary of a metaphor with a deeper meaning that comes very close to the Buddhist understanding. 

The significant difference between the two is the notion of duality, separation, and where to find the kingdom of Heaven. Here is what Jesus is recorded as having said about Heaven and finding your true self: 

“If your leaders say, ‘Look, the Kingdom is in the Heavens,’ then the birds will be before you. If they say, ‘It is in the ocean,’ then the fish will be before you. But the Kingdom is inside of you and the Kingdom is outside of you. When you know yourself, then you will know that you are of the flesh of the living Father. But if you know yourself not, then you live in poverty and that poverty is you.”—Gospel of Thomas 3.

Others have suggested that we are not lost but instead consider ourselves to be. To a person of Zen, words are a mixed blessing. They can lead you astray or open your mind to the music of the muses. One of the greatest mystical poets of all time was RabindranathTagore.  Sadly, while he lived, he was little known outside of the Calcutta area, and not known at all outside of India. The Nobel Prize in Literature 1913 was awarded to Tagore, “because of his profoundly sensitive, fresh and beautiful verse, by which, with consummate skill, he has made his poetic thought, expressed in his own English words, a part of the literature of the West.”

One of Tagor’s resonate themes is opening doors. Here is one facet from his poetic jewel Journey Home. 

“The traveler has to knock at every alien door to come to his own, and one has to wander through all the outer worlds to reach the innermost shrine at the end.” 

Similarly, one of the great Zen Masters (Hakuin Zenji) wrote a famous poem called The Song of Zazen, which opens like this, 

“From the beginning all beings are Buddha. Like water and ice, without water no ice, outside us no Buddhas. How near the truth, yet how far we seek. Like one in water crying, ‘I thirst!’ Like the son of a rich man wand’ring poor on this earth, we endlessly circle the six worlds. The cause of our sorrow is ego delusion.” 

Jesus likewise wrote the parable of the Prodigal Son, which in essence expresses the same truth of a man who has the blessing from the beginning but wanders far and wide before realizing that all along, he must return home to find what he had lost.

The principle treasure of Buddhist understanding is that we are not lost or in need of saving. We have never been separated from our source (our inherent and eternally indwelling, indiscriminate true self), which remains obscure due to ego delusion. We are all in essence Buddha’s awaiting awakening, and once that true nature is revealed, your entire self-understanding and the universal view are transformed for all time. You then know in the depth of your core that we are all united, one and the same—none better and none lesser and fundamentally indiscriminate. There is profound liberty that comes with the realization that we can never be anywhere that God is not, and in God’s eyes, we are all equal and loved without conditions.

“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing, and perfect will.” The Apostle Paul—Romans12:2

“First awaken the mind that reads, and then you’ll understand.”—Zen Master Bassui Tokushō

Already, not yet

The culmination of every spiritual journey is the realization of completion and unity. Many religions claim we are incomplete and must find the road to a far distant heavenly home. 

Johnny Cash made famous the song In the by and by there’ll be pie in the sky, meaning there will be a reward waiting for us in heaven if we do God’s will here on earth. Because we imagine incompletion we seek completion. Because we misunderstand our source and ourselves, we desire fulfillment even though we are from beginning to the end already full. Our cup runs over with goodness and we remain thirsty for what is already ours.

Acceptance of the already and not yet is a seeming paradox. How can both be true at the same time? The answer as Pierre Teilhard de Chardin pointed out, is, “We are not human beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having a human experience.” Our true nature is spiritual, complete and there is nowhere to go. Our mortal nature is phenomenal, in a process, and we search for the already. We are like the man who looks through lenses, searching for the eyeglasses that sit upon his nose.

It was Zen Master Huang Po who expressed the doctrine of One Mind: “All the Buddhas and all sentient beings are nothing but the One Mind, beside which nothing exists. This Mind, which is without beginning: is unborn and indestructible. It is not green nor yellow and has neither form nor appearance. It does not belong to the categories of things which exist or do not exist, nor can it be thought of in terms of new or old. It is neither long nor short, big nor small, for it  transcends all limits, measures, names, traces, and comparisons.”

Thus the idea of mind over matter is absurd. The mind is the matter in the exact same way that Emptiness is form (The Heart of Perfect Wisdom Sūtra). Every atom of our material body is nothing other than the perfect integration of the One Mind and looking elsewhere for what is already ours is a fools journey.

The parable of the Prodigal Son is a story that reveals this truth.  The message of the Prodigal is the same as contained in the Song of Zazen written by one of the Zen giants (17th-century Hakuin Ekaku). Here are his words: 

“How near the truth, yet how far we seek. Like one in water crying, ‘I thirst!’ Like the son of a rich man wandering poor on this earth we endlessly circle the six worlds. The cause of our sorrow is ego delusion.”  

What can be seen blinds us and keeps us ignorant of what is unseen. So, on the one hand, we are deceived by the conditional, discriminate nature of what we can perceive and on the other hand, our true nature is unconditionally indiscriminate, ineffable but full. And out of our sense of incompletion, we are consumed by desire, not realizing that we already possess what we seek.

The noble winning poet Rabindranath Tagore captured the journey beautifully when he wrote, “The traveler has to knock at every alien door to come to his own, and one has to wander through all the outer worlds to reach the innermost shrine at the end.” 

So on this spring day, reflect on the labor of your life. Are you laboring for becoming complete? Or are you laboring to accept your never-ending completion? It makes a difference.

The Fourth Step

“From the beginning all beings are Buddha. 

Like water and ice, without water, no ice,

outside us no Buddhas.”

Right action/cause (samyak-karmanta—Sanskrit) is translated as right conduct. “Samyak” (or Samma in Pali) means either complete, perfect, or right. Karmata means conduct or action. Karma is thus understood to be the result of an action. Samyak-karmanta has a variety of possible meanings. One meaning might be a code of conduct to be followed to ensure a desirable outcome. This meaning establishes the causal connection between actions (causes) and effects—karma. An alternate meaning would be conduct that flows from what is already perfect. This understanding is the flip side of the first meaning. In the first, we are working toward a goal or payoff through our conduct, and in the second, our conduct is a reflection of attainment already.

Hakuin Zenji preferred this last meaning because he recognized that all beings are essentially Buddhas. The first line of his Song of Zazen says:

“From the beginning all beings are Buddha. 

Like water and ice, without water, no ice,

outside us no Buddhas.”

As Buddhas, there is nothing to attain. Buddhas (e.g., awakened-past tense) are not bound by karma since they are beyond cause and effect. A Buddha can’t be un-awakened. A Buddha is our unconditional well-spring—our true mind of wisdom—from which all things arise (Prajñāpāramitā). Of course, we can choose to deny this assertion and continue to suffer, trying to attain a payoff. Our lives, as well as our zazen practice, reflect either choice. We either have the payoff, or we don’t. To attain what we have already, by necessity, results in continued karma, utter frustration, and a never-ending quest. To accept our essential nature as Buddhas is to move beyond both attainment and karma.

The beginning of Hakuin’s Song of Zazen says,

How near the truth, yet how far we seek.

Like one in water crying, “I thirst!”

“Sila” in Sanskrit means morality or ethical conduct, but sila alone does not indicate on which side of attainment we exist. Many, if not most, arrangements of the Eightfold Path begin with Sila (Speech, Action, and Livelihood) move on to mental discipline (Effort, Mindfulness, and Concentration), and ends with wisdom (Understanding and Thoughts). What I am now discussing is the fourth step—action, ordinarily seen as the second step. Hakuin’s interpretation turns this around to reflect his premise of “already.” The Sutras clearly state that prajna is beyond cause and effect and thus can’t result from prior actions. Likewise, prajna is the ground from which all Buddhas arise. I accept this order as the proper placement for “Right Action”—not leading to wisdom but rather flowing from wisdom.

Within Buddhism, five precepts govern conduct. They are reflected in the following refrain:

1. I observe the precept of abstaining from the destruction of life.

2. I observe the precept of abstaining from taking that which is not given.

3. I observe the precept of abstaining from sexual misconduct.

4. I observe the precept of abstaining from falsehood.

5. I observe the precept of abstaining from intoxicants that cloud the mind and cause carelessness.

Many Buddhist traditions routinely recite these precepts. The refrain “I observe the precept of abstaining from ...” which begins every precept, shows that these are not commandments. They are moral codes of conduct that lay Buddhists willingly undertake with the understanding and conviction that they are good for themselves and others.

No harm results from employing these precepts regardless of attainment. All such conduct benefits the giver and the receiver. The harm comes about when these measures are used to attain what is already attained. “They are like those who, being in the midst of water, cry out for water, feeling thirst.”