Zeno’s days usually began just before sunrise. Soon after waking, he would descend to the streets, which were still quiet at this hour. He would walk leisurely to his school, watching the city gradually unfold under the cool purple, blue, then golden hues of the rising sun. He would stop and chat with merchants. He would help vendors carrying large packages.
His path to school varied slightly each day. He tended to follow the progression of people as he liked to watch the city waking up. However, there was one row of shops, not far from Zeno’s school, that always attracted his attention: A small vanity district. A series of allies where fine tailors, silk merchants, dye makers, and coiffeurs gathered to do business.
Stopping in the fashion quarter had become a habit of Zeno’s, one that did not go unnoticed by his teacher, Crates
Zeno would spend the better part of the morning trying on robes and clothes dyed in sea-snail purple. He would soak up the compliments that the merchants would shower upon him, forgetting temporarily that their adoration served only their interest to sell.
One day, Crates decided to give his pupil a challenge. When Zeno arrived at the school, Crates handed him an enormous pot of hot lentil soup. The pot was so large and filled to the brim that it required a person’s full strength and reach to carry it.
Crates’ instructions for Zeno were simple: Carry the pot of soup to the agreed location on the other side of town during peak market hours.
Zeno grabbed the great pot and started out on his task, struggling with all his might and concentration to not spill the soup all over his outfit.
He opted for the most obscure of routes, snaking along back alleys and side tracks. The great pot sloshed about, splashing soup and staining his clothes, but he was undeterred. The only witnesses to this embarrassing display of clumsiness and poor hygiene were a few street cats.
At the designated location, Crates had been waiting for Zeno to inspect his pupil’s results.
Zeno arrived. The pot of soup was mostly full. Thus, Zeno was shocked when his teacher informed him that he had failed the challenge.
The next morning, upon arrival at the school, Zeno was greeted not by fellow students, but by another enormous pot of soup. Immediately, he understood that he was meant to reattempt the previous day’s challenge.
This time, Zeno understood that he must take a more direct route through the markets. Again, he strained under the weight of the giant pot. Again, he struggled to keep the soup from spilling.
As he neared the markets, he began to attract attention. People couldn’t help but stop and stare at the large man teetering and wobbling along under the weight of the largest pot of soup they had ever seen.
Just as he reached the city center, his arms began to tire. He was losing control over the great pot. Sheets of soup would splat onto the ground. Splashes of it would end up on his clothing, and, in one or two cases, on the clothing of market-goers. All of this commotion was drawing more and more eyes, gawking, and even some laughter.
Weighed down by not only the enormous pot but also by the scorn of what seemed like the entire market, Zeno decided that he could not carry on that way. He sat the pot down, buried his head between his knees for a moment, and then looked at the stall next to him. The stall was selling wooden bowls, which gave him a fantastically clever idea. Zeno made a deal with the merchant for 100 bowls, and set up a stall of his own. He began selling the hot soup at an excellent price. It took several hours, and in the end the cost of the bowls he had purchased outweighed the earnings from the soup, but at last the giant pot was empty.
He arrived at the agreed destination with the empty pot with a light sense of satisfaction, believing undoubtedly that this time he had passed his teacher’s test. Again, Crates was there waiting. Again, Crates did not approve.
The next day, now somewhat vexed by his repeated failure, Zeno hurried toward the school, more determined than ever to finally pass Crates’ test. For the third day in a row, an enormous bowl of hot soup greeted Zeno at the school’s entrance. This time, Zeno reasoned that he had been too slow in his previous attempts, and so he set off with the massive pot at a hurried pace.
He started off strong and fast. He was fit, but even highly trained bodies have their limits. Zeno’s limit, like the previous day, was reached not long after entering the market district. His arms began to tremble. Soup splashed and sloshed about more furiously than the day before as he hurried along the narrow market streets. It seemed that the humor of the spectacle had worn off. Now, Zeno and his splashing pot of soup were seen as a nuisance. This time, there were angry cries from the crowd. People began to shout at Zeno, calling out his absurdity and clumsiness.
Zeno tried to remain focused, tried to keep up his pace, but he was beginning to falter under the searing pressure of the crowd.
‘Why would Crates want to humiliate me so?’ he thought to himself.
Then it came to him. A revelation.
He set the big pot down.
‘Of course’, he realized silently, ‘Of course’.
His failures in the past were not because he had been too slow or because he had spilled some soup on his clothing.
At that moment, feeling reinvigorated by his realization, Zeno lifted the great pot over his head, grunting under its immense weight, tipping it over, allowing a giant wave of soup to spill over his head, soaking him entirely from head to toe.
The market froze.
All stopped to stare at this incredible sight. With the captive audience of the entire marketplace, Zeno looked around, soaked and covered in soup, and shouted with a grin, ‘Look at me now! Look at me now!’
Upon arriving at the designated meeting point, this time with an empty pot and soaked head to toe in soup, Zeno could already see his teacher’s smile as he approached.
‘Conceitedness was your only obstacle,’ exclaimed Crates, ‘but today you have earned your lesson in humility.’
A short story about humility
A famous combat sports coach named Jason Parillo is known for telling his athletes, “You don’t go in the rain without getting wet.” In his world, this means you don’t compete at the highest level in boxing or MMA without getting hit.
In the case of Zeno in our story, he was meant to traverse the market with a giant pot of soup the only way one can traverse the market with a giant pot of soup: while looking foolish.
The same principle applies to our own lives. If we dare to be great at anything, we’re sure to ruffle a few feathers along the way. If we go out there, venturing into the world, there are sure to be obstacles. Some we can avoid, sure. But many are unavoidable. For this latter kind, we must face them head on.