I'm in the middle of a task that, I fear, is but a fool's errand.
I suspect – no, I know – that others think so, too. They're keeping mum about it, though, not amongst themselves necessarily but toward the one who is setting the task.
They believe – and perhaps they are right – that such studied silence is a mark of equanimity, forbearance, dutifulness and deference, the fruit of good Zen training, an indicator of insight and wisdom, a sign of respect.
I don't know.
"Shut up, kid," I hear the crowd say, "the emperor's new clothes are exactly what he ordered."