Zarathustra's eye had perceived that a certain youth avoided him. And as he walked alone one evening over the hills surrounding the town called "The Pied Cow," behold, there found he the youth sitting leaning against a tree, and gazing with wearied look into the valley. Zarathustra thereupon laid hold of the tree beside which the youth sat, and spake thus: "If I wished to shake this tree with my hands, I should not be able to do so. But the wind, which we see not, troubleth and bendeth it as it listeth. We are sorest bent and troubled by invisible hands."
"But it is the same with man as with the tree. The more he seeketh to rise into the height and light, the more vigorously do his roots struggle earthward, downward, into the dark and deep, into the evil."
"Thou saidst the truth, Zarathustra. I trust myself no longer since I sought to rise into the height, and nobody trusteth me any longer; how doth that happen? I change too quickly: my to-day refuteth my yesterday. I often overleap the steps when I clamber; for so doing, none of the steps pardons me. When aloft, I find myself always alone. No one speaketh unto me; the frost of solitude maketh me tremble. What do I seek on the height? My contempt and my longing increase together; the higher I clamber, the more do I despise him who clambereth. What doth he seek on the height?"
Here the youth was silent. And Zarathustra contemplated the tree beside which they stood, and spake thus: "This tree standeth lonely here on the hills; it hath grown up high above man and beast. And if it wanted to speak, it would have none who could understand it: so high hath it grown. Now it waiteth and waiteth - for what doth it wait? It dwelleth too close to the seat of the clouds; it waiteth perhaps for the first lightning?"
Zarathustra smiled, and said: "Many a soul one will never discover, unless one first invent it."
Sometimes all it takes is a good coincidence for spectacular success to be put on proper track. Sometimes all it takes is a lack of constructive coincidence for thorough failure to complete. What is inspired, typically begins spontaneously, comes natural in life, like pulsating flow of oceanic waves approach the shore of destination. To think each car we pass by on the road, driving, could be the cause of our lifechanging experience. To think each person we pass by on the street, walking, could be the most valued or despised figure among those who matter within personal microcosm. Is it all lost, never fulfilled? Perhaps it is better to think it all has happened, depicted with growth of the million branched multiverse tree. What could be, is.
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