“When the monsoon comes, the sage builds a hut.”
For example, he could ignore the warning by applying the popular logic that states, ‘Till now there has been no rain; all this talk about monsoons and typhoons is probably just apocalyptic hysteria of pessimists and paranoiacs.’ So he may go out sailing or surfing – and meet his personal ‘end of the world’.
As another option, he could believe in the reality of the monsoon and consider it a threat which he has to fight against: ‘The monsoon is harmful and it must be prevented. Let me order anti-rain missiles.’
Or he could take an ‘esoteric’ approach and start a global anti-monsoon meditation: ‘Let us pray and meditate so that no monsoon will come.’
Or he could go to a church or a prophet’s group that promises: ‘If you follow us, then you will be saved, and you will be chosen to survive the monsoon flood while all others have to die.’
Or he himself could start to preach: ‘There are so many prophets and psychics nowadays channelling so many things. But I tell you: God only speaks through rare selected prophets, usually only one per generation. And now, by divine mercy, the revelation comes to you that this prophet is me [or the avatar or the master I represent]. Trust no scriptures or channelled messages. Trust me, and I say unto you: The monsoon will come! Wait and you will see that I speak the truth.’
And when the monsoon comes, his believers will lose their last doubts and say: ‘He predicted everything, and see, it has all come to pass. Therefore, everything else he says must also be true.’
The same monsoon – and so many ways of reacting! Considering all the possible fallacies and false tracks, we can appreciate the wisdom contained in the quoted proverb, which otherwise might sound like a truism: ‘When the monsoon comes, the sage builds a hut.’
We could ignore the monsoon or become afraid of it. We could try to fight against it. We could panic and overestimate it. We could join forces with those who claim to have the ‘only truth’. We could wait for the ‘big saviour’ and ‘world teacher’ who tells us what to believe and what to do. We could even try to exploit the situation for ourselves by becoming sensationalists, false prophets or sellers of ‘anti-rain missiles’. Or we could simply resign in frustration because we cannot prevent the monsoon. But who told us that we must prevent it?
Even if the monsoon comes, we do not have to be helplessly exposed. The water may inundate the land, but that does not mean that we have to drown. When the monsoon comes, those who are wise simply build a hut. They know the rain will come, and they know the rain will go again. And they protect themselves without fear. They do not become absorbed in artificial endeavours that entail never-ending entanglements in ‘further improvements’, one patchwork always calling for the next, while simply furthering destruction in the long run.
The parallels to the global situation are obvious: The ‘monsoon’ that is imminent, once avoidable, has become unavoidable. It could be avoided, but for this end, modern men (we) would have to do certain things, and not do other things. We cannot directly change the power structures of politics and high finance, but there are a few things everybody could do, for example to become free from mass-media consumption, legal and illegal drugs, and meat-eating. These simple things alone would suffice to completely change the face of the world (and of world economics).
What is the probability that such a mass awakening will take place in the next few months? Will global diplomacy and anti-evil campaigns manage to create an atmosphere that furthers true peace? Or will they increasingly blur any clear view of the real, honest solutions?
… continued in TranscEnding the Global Power Game, p. 388