Parable of the Arrow

Today, while lost on the web, I came across this old Buddhist parable referred to as the Parable of the Arrow.  I thought it was worth sharing here for two reasons. First, it happens to list some interesting details about the parts of the arrow used in Asia during the time of writing (?), including stork feather fletching, monkey sinew, cultivated arrow shafts, calf-toothed arrows, bamboo thread bow strings, and more. Second, the parable serves to illustrate the foolishness of spending ones life pondering the meaning of life. If only I had come across this parable back when I was in grad school stuck in a rut, toiling with the meaning of existence to point that existence itself seemed absurd. Without further ado, here it is, straight from Wikipedia:

"It's just as if a man were wounded with an arrow thickly smeared with poison. His friends & companions, kinsmen & relatives would provide him with a surgeon, and the man would say, 'I won't have this arrow removed until I know whether the man who wounded me was a noble warrior, a priest, a merchant, or a worker.' He would say, 'I won't have this arrow removed until I know the given name & clan name of the man who wounded me... until I know whether he was tall, medium, or short... until I know whether he was dark, ruddy-brown, or golden-colored... until I know his home village, town, or city... until I know whether the bow with which I was wounded was a long bow or a crossbow... until I know whether the bowstring with which I was wounded was fiber, bamboo threads, sinew, hemp, or bark... until I know whether the shaft with which I was wounded was wild or cultivated... until I know whether the feathers of the shaft with which I was wounded were those of a vulture, a stork, a hawk, a peacock, or another bird... until I know whether the shaft with which I was wounded was bound with the sinew of an ox, a water buffalo, a langur, or a monkey.' He would say, 'I won't have this arrow removed until I know whether the shaft with which I was wounded was that of a common arrow, a curved arrow, a barbed, a calf-toothed, or an oleander arrow.' The man would die and those things would still remain unknown to him."

— Cula-Malunkyovada Sutta: The Shorter Instructions to Malunkya" (MN 63), Majjhima Nikaya

Thich Nhat Hanh comments on the way the parable of the poisoned arrow illustrates the Buddha's anti-metaphysical views:

            The Buddha always told his disciples not to waste their time and energy in metaphysical speculation.  Whenever he was asked a metaphysical question, he remained silent. Instead, he directed his disciples toward practical efforts. Questioned one day about the problem of the infinity of the world, the Buddha said, "Whether the world is finite or infinite, limited or unlimited, the problem of your liberation remains the same." Another time he said, "Suppose a man is struck by a poisoned arrow and the doctor wishes to take out the arrow immediately. Suppose the man does not want the arrow removed until he knows who shot it, his age, his parents, and why he shot it. What would happen? If he were to wait until all these questions have been answered, the man might die first." Life is so short. It must not be spent in endless metaphysical speculation that does not bring us any closer to the truth.
— Hanh, Thich; Philip Kapleau (2005). Zen Keys. Three Leaves Press. p. 42.