'I sometimes wonder,' said the rabbit, 'why you seem to prefer the moon to the sun.'
'Occupational habit,' replied the owl. 'When I shine directly by daylight others do what has to be done; when I shine indirectly by moonlight I look after things myself.'
'Things - such as yourself?' suggested the rabbit, with a mischievous skip in the air.
'All "things" are manifestations of what-I-am,' said the owl severely, 'extended in conceptual space-time in integral mind.'
'Indeed', commented the rabbit, sampling a juicy cloverleaf, 'how nice for them that must be!'
'Glad you find it so,' replied the owl, 'but in relativity, when my mind is split, there must be apparent suffering also. If positive and negative were equal they would cancel one another out, and equanimity, which is reintegration, would supervene.'
'So that is why we have to suffer?' inquired the rabbit, 'why unhappiness exists?'
'Neither happiness nor unhappiness exists,' replied the owl; 'no interdependent counterparts exist, they are conceptual estimations, which abolish one another in mutual negation.'
'Then what are they?' inquired the rabbit.
'What are you?' replied the owl, 'what is all sensorial perception, all cognizing, judging, discriminating?'
'Whatever is doing it, I suppose,' suggested the rabbit. 'Myself, for instance.'
'As such you are only what is perceived,' hooted the owl, 'that is only an object in mind.'
'Then what perceives what is perceived?' asked the rabbit.
'I,' answered the owl; 'I, forever I.'
'And to what or to whom does "I" apply?' inquired the rabbit, her nose twitching dubiously.
'To what or to whom?' replied the owl. 'Shall I tell you?'
'Yes, please do!' said the rabbit.
'Very well,' said the owl, 'listen and you shall hear,' and - raising his wings and stretching his neck - the forest echoed and re-echoed his stentorian reply:
'To-o-wha-a-t, to-o-wh-a-t, to-o-who-o-o-om!'