It doesn’t matter what language the Buddha spoke…
Dharma is the same in any language. It only matters that you speak the truth, as best you know it. Because there is more than one kind of truth, and intent is primary. On the one hand there is mere propositional truth, in which a statement is either true or false based on the definitions inherent to the observable facts. On the other hand, there are opinions which may be subject to interpretation. Whether something is red or not can generally be agreed upon quite easily, subject to shifting shades and tones.
But whether the weather is cold or not might be heavily determined by what you are accustomed to. Then there is the kind of truth that relies on deep contemplation. This is the kind of truth—and thought—that philosophers like the Buddha specialized in. And here extra care is necessary. Because this kind of thought was largely pre-scientific and so avoided much of the rigor that scientific thought was subject to, albeit often only in the final testing.
Because deep thought is still invaluable in the conceptual phase of scientific thought, as Einstein himself recounts when remembering some of his happiest moments. But their truth can only be ascertained by thorough testing, which Plato’s Allegory of the Cave will never be subjected to, nor will Buddha’s Four Noble Truths. Because this is a different kind of truth, not a truth of the agreement of propositions in a logical syllogism. Thus, these are largely subjective truths which can only be agreed upon by consent or inspiration. And these may be the best kind of truths, because they become personal and must be assimilated.










Though not often heralded as such, language is arguably the world’s greatest invention, and I think that, like most inventions, it might have a limited lifespan of prime utility, and it’s a very arguable point that the world just might be better off without it. I don’t arrive at this conclusion lightly, given that fact that I love language with all my heart and all my soul, but if it’s outlived its usefulness, then it just might need to be put out to pasture (and there just might be something better)…
You know the American dream, the whole world does: two-story house and a two-car garage, two kids in the breakfast nook and the neighbor’s kids coming over later, God’s little acre in a sanctified suburb, full ownership and bulging bank accounts, stay-at-home mom and a rising-star dad, with a bachelor’s degree in business and a lotta’ backyard gossip, Saturday at the zoo and Sunday barbecue, PTA meetings and postman’s daily greetings, fried chicken and crispy F
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