Anthony de Mello

    A man born blind comes to me and asks, "What is this thing called green?" How does one describe the color green to someone who was born blind? One uses analogies. So I say, "The color green is something like soft music." "Oh," he says, "like soft music." "Yes," I say, "soothing and soft music."

    So a second blind man comes to me and asks, "What is the color green?" I tell him it's something like soft satin, very soft and soothing to the touch.

    So the next day I notice that the two blind men are bashing each other over the head with bottles. One is saying, "It's soft like music"; the other is saying, "It's soft like satin." And on it goes. Neither of them knows what they're talking about, because if they did, they'd shut up. It's as bad as that. It's even worse, because one day, say, you give sight to this blind man, and he's sitting there in the garden and he's looking all around him, and you say to him, "Well, now you know what the color green is." And he answers, "That's true. I heard some of it this morning!"

(From Anthony de MeAnthony de Mello's book: Awareness)