“… you already have the answer, you just don’t know it.”
The story is about a man who wants to cook some food on his stove, when he comes home in the evening after a full day of work. In his dark hut, he uses his only source of light, a paraffin lantern, to try to locate his matches to start the fire. He looks in his closest, opening the doors and peering inside, the lantern lighting the way. But they are not there.
He goes to the firewood box, and opens it, using the lantern to light the innards – but the matches are not inside.
The shadows of the logs flicker on the wall as he does so.
He goes outside to the latrine – perhaps he left the matches there when he smoked his pipe yesterday? But alas, they are not there either.
Ripples and small waves shimmer in the light of the lantern, as the pale of water is moved about to search for the small sticks.
He looks in his drawers, his coat, his cloak and all the boxes or pouches he can find in his dark hut – using the lantern to light the way.
But the matches are no where to be found.
Hungry, frustrated and tired the man goes to sleep ready for his early start and long hours tomorrow at work.
It’s a semi-Buddhist tale, equivalent to “can’t see the forest for the trees”.
If he stopped and thought about it, his candlelight – the lantern – could have been used to start the stove. If he knew the candlelight was fire, the meal would have been cooked much earlier in the day, and he would have been satisfied when he slept, and been fresh for work tomorrow.
If you immediately know the candlelight is fire, then the meal was cooked a long time ago.