When a creature is as large as an elephant – large on the human scale – it is easy for us to ascribe symbolic meanings to it. The ‘elephant in the room’ is commonly used now to refer to a subject that is obvious to everyone but that no one wants to mention. Presumably, to speak of the elephant in this usage would mean having to deal with something large, awkward and perhaps difficult or even dangerous to manage. How do you persuade an elephant to leave your living room without destroying the furniture?
Some might think this current ‘elephant-ism’ is related to the well known story of the blind men and the elephant, but that points in a different direction. The blind men were led to examine an elephant and then asked to report on the nature of the creature to the king. One felt the tail and said an elephant was like a rope; another felt the side and declared that an elephant was like a wall; a third felt the leg and said it was like a pillar, and so on. In this case, the elephant is not at all being ignored, merely misunderstood, or understood only partially. A possible explanation – and there will be as many explanations as there are ‘blind’ interpreters of any story – is that the elephant represents truth, solid, warm, living and breathing truth, and the reports of the blind men represent the glimpses given by religious dogma. No doubt each ‘blind’ inspector gave a faithful report of what he knew by experience, feeling a solemn duty to inform the king of the truth. Consequently each report is absolutely correct, as far as it goes, and yet, the tale usually concludes that on hearing what the other examiners declare, the blind men fall into dispute, each arguing vigorously that he knows what an elephant is and the others know nothing. In this way, by excluding all the other views the totality of truth is lost.
Such stories may lure us into a false sense of superiority. After all, we don’t have blind spots – do we? Certainly, we are too spiritual to be limited by dogmas. But because we habitually look outward and not inward, it is always easier to spot the dogmas of others than to see our own, although if we watch ourselves carefully, we may begin to discern the outlines of our dogmas in our reactions to those who do not share or honour them. If we have anger toward someone, it is quite likely that they have crossed the boundary of one of our unquestionable beliefs.
The truth, though, like the elephant in the story, must in some way support all beliefs without being limited to any of them. In his brief talk on our Dependence on God, Hazrat Inayat Khan says, “One imagines God, another realizes God; there is a difference between these two people. The one who imagines can hope, but he cannot be certain. The one who realizes God is face to face with his Lord, and it is he who depends on God with certainty.” The ‘blind’ person imagines God, extrapolating from a little knowledge, but does not grasp the totality. To realize God should not be so difficult – if God is omnipresent, all pervading, within and around us and is our source and goal and sustenance, it should be more difficult, more laborious to ignore that Reality than to realize it. Therefore, being able to drop our blindness and let all the Truth flood in should come as a great relief. We do not intend to maintain a narrow view, but as long as we think that ‘we’ are seeking to realize ‘God,’ we are still separate, still trapped in duality. We must let go of our blindness and let the elephant be us and all. Or, putting aside the metaphor for a moment: let go of our self and let God come in.