a philosopher of significant education and intellect has spent years searching for an answer to the eternal question, the question that probably crosses the mind of any human being. he has met the smartest man known to society, has traveled all around the world in his research. however, no source of knowledge could satisfy his curiosity, no point of view was good enough. given up all hope, he turned back to his home, disappointed and exhausted.

on his way back he came across a monk resting peacefully at a tree. tired from the road and feeling a vibe from the stillness the monk was projecting, the philosopher decided to rest for a while near him.

the monk observed the newcomer a moment and asked, “what is bothering you, traveler?”

“how do you know anything is troubling me?” the philosopher asked, surprised.

“it is written on you,” the monk replied.

“i have spent years traveling, searching for the purpose of life. but it seams that there is no true answer to that question,” the philosopher said.

“the purpose of life is life itself,” said the monk laughing, “and you have wasted a big part of it looking for purpose and not seeing life.”