In some cave chalk full of hippos, there was this ninja. All the hippos gathered for a story. The ninja began with a warning: “If any hippo here cannot handle this type of crap, I suggest leaving you leave right now.” And some actually did. Then he began.
“All right listen. These old children were just goofing around once in a playground: sports and talking and stuff. Nobody wanted any trouble, even the unconfident kids. Well, there was this crackle and everybody looked up. Something shiny. Then this UFO flopped on the soccer field. One kid was like “What the heck?” And then its side door busted open and fog creamed out. The principle freaked out and tripped, spilling his guts on a table. Nobody knew anything about anything. Then there was this rolling sound getting louder and louder and quieter and finally louder. Out of the UFO, popped this giant can. It rolled past the soccer field and hit a pole. By the time they realized it was a keg of beer, the UFO zapped into space. Well guess what, somebody brought a radio and turned it on loud. Then one kid grabbed Dixie cups from her duffle bag. Everybody went berserk in a good way and partied hard. Little was understood that day, but, boy, did those kid party.”
The ninja, having scared himself, beat his own ass in a paradoxical way. It was quite confusing for the hippos. But they were mature--they didn’t try to make sense out of non-sense. The hippos moved on, accepting those things they cannot change and surrounded themselves with only positive energy. By not defining what happened that day (or even themselves--their relation to it), they never limited their understanding and they never limited themselves.
http://www.realultimatepower.net/index4.htm
