A short, absurd, eccentric, magnificent work of zen. Harding awoke one day while walking the Himalayas to a silence, an absence of all fabrications, and made the surprising discovery that nowhere in his true experience did he have a head.
Where everyone conventionally believes they have a head upon their shoulders, Harding cannot find it.
“It took me no time at all to notice that this nothing, this hole where a head should have been, was no ordinary vacancy, no mere nothing. On the contrary, it was very much occupied. It was a vast emptiness vastly filled, a nothing that found room for everything - room for grass, trees, shadowy distant hills, and far above them snow-peaks like a row of angular clouds riding the blue sky. I had lost a head and gained a world.”