Self-know­ledge is the start­ing point of every spir­itu­al endeav­our. Self-reflec­tion is a dis­tinctly human trait – man is able to med­it­ate on his own exist­ence, on him­self, and if this abil­ity has been gran­ted, it is also a task. An ego­ist, too, makes use of self-reflec­tion, pla­cing him­self at the centre of the world. The care­ful inquirer acts in much the same way, only he places him­self at the centre not of the world but of his inquir­ies. Through genu­ine self-exam­in­a­tion he can map out the whole sys­tem of con­nec­tions that binds him, the unique indi­vidu­al, to the world and to the tran­scend­ent. That is why it is true that we mat­ter to ourselves at a low level and at a high one alike, that the fool and the sage are both occu­pied with them­selves, but the con­tent of their find­ings dif­fers.

Onto­logy, cos­mo­logy, epi­stem­o­logy, phe­nomen­o­logy, eschat­o­logy and eth­ics – most people lose the thread at the very first steps. If man does not under­stand pro­found philo­soph­ic­al dis­course, then the old tra­di­tion teaches him through beau­ti­ful par­ables. Such, too, is the par­able of the Jain tra­di­tion, which cap­tures the char­ac­ter of the indi­vidu­al in a man's atti­tude and con­duct towards the mango tree.

Man's deeds and thoughts are shaped by an immense num­ber of factors, the list of motives is exceed­ingly long, and even when we think we act or decide freely, we are prob­ably under some influ­ence all the same. The Jain story sim­pli­fies this intric­ate sys­tem and holds that in his deeds man is guided by good and bad emo­tions, and that these emo­tions are reflec­ted in dif­fer­ent col­ours. On the scale from wicked­ness to good­ness, the series of similes paints the rungs of human qual­ity in col­ours ran­ging from black to white.

  • › The basest man ruth­lessly des­troys everything of value, a stead­fast mis­an­thrope. He is like one who, hop­ing for the fruit, wrenches the mango tree out by its roots; his col­our is black.
  • › Next comes the greedy and shame­less man, who at times shows patient delib­er­a­tion. He can be likened to the man who leaves the stump but cuts down the trunk; his col­our is dark blue.
  • › The envi­ous man is third, one who can­not make dis­tinc­tions, but whose destruct­ive urge is more sub­dued. He is like the wan­der­er who need­lessly breaks off the branches, yet the tree still lives; his col­our is grey.
  • › The remain­ing cul­prits walk the path of vir­tue and puri­fic­a­tion, and in them there is more good than harm. The kindly but care­less man is like the irre­spons­ible wan­der­er who gets to the fruit by snap­ping off the twigs; his col­our is yel­low, fiery.
  • › Next comes the patient and for­bear­ing man, who harms no one and only picks the fruit, without hurt­ing the tree; his col­our is red.
  • › Finally, the man who stands on the level of pur­ity, com­pas­sion and com­plete equal­ity causes pain to no one. He walks his path towards sal­va­tion, and there is no mater­i­al stain upon him. He is like the peace­ful, mod­est and con­ten­ted wan­der­er who gath­ers only the fallen fruit and gives thanks to the tree; his col­our is white.

The extremes of the scale, the black and the white states, are rare, and the vast major­ity of people are found with­in a rel­at­ively nar­row range near the aver­age. The Chuvash pro­verb holds true: a bad man can­not live a good life. Few rep­res­ent the utter extremes: the exceed­ingly wicked are few, and the infin­itely good fewer still. Lib­er­a­tion from bonds can­not be won by wicked means, and what is more, neither aver­age achieve­ment nor even good­ness is enough. The sum­mit of self-know­ledge is spir­itu­al free­dom, and only that man is free whose soul leaves the world before he him­self leaves the world.