The sea, which is quite contented with itself, indifferent to all, has salt water because it is independent of all else. It gives health, happiness, and pleasure to those who are near it, because it asks nothing from anyone. It rises and falls within itself, it is independent, it is immense; and in that way it shows perfection. But with that independent perfection its water is not sweet. The ascetic who has closed his heart with the perfection of God and with the realization of truth, is like the sea: independent, indifferent to all things. His presence heals people, his contact gives them joy and peace, and yet his personality is uninteresting to others, as is the salt water of the sea.

When the sea is calm it is a pleasure to travel on it, and when the sea is rough there is no worse illness than sea-sickness. And it is through its tranquility and calmness and peace that the powerful mind, the mind of a soul which has touched perfection, opens itself to everyone, as the sea lays itself before those who journey on it with open heart. Ships and boats pass over it; those who journey enjoy traveling on the sea. But when the sea is disturbed by wind and storm it is also perfect in its annoyance, it can shake the boats and steamers; and in the same way the mind of the sage can have an effect upon all things in nature: it can cause volcanic eruptions, it can cause disasters, revolutions, all manner of things, when once its tranquility is disturbed. Aware of this quality of the heart and knowing the great powers possessed by a man who has touched divine perfection, people in the East give careful regard to the pleasure or displeasure of the sage. They believe that to annoy a sage is like annoying the whole of nature, to disturb his tranquility means to shake the whole universe. Compared with this a storm on the sea is a very small thing; the heart that has touched perfection, if once upset, can upset the whole universe.