zen – An Accidental Anarchist

The fertilizer of our lives; Who ordered this truckload of dung?

Two neighbours both moved into gorgeous country houses adjacent to a popular walk and bridleway. It was a lovely environment. Open feilds, a sea view, pretty trees and cute wildlife. After a few days they began to notice that walking horses would foul the pathway outside their respective homes.

Over time, one of the neighbours found it hard to make friends and people often avoided him. Whereas the other neighbour was popular and had no problem making friends.

Furthermore, the already popular neighbour began to grow his garden and soon his garden was producing lots of beautiful produce. So much that he left it in crates on the path for the local walkers to help themselves.

The unpopular neighbour began asking people what he was doing wrong, but they would cut short the conversations, often curling their noses while walking away.

What was he doing wrong?

The answer: He was collecting the dung from the path and putting it into his pocket. He had no idea what to do with it and would often carry it for too long. Furthermore, in his attempt to avoid the dung, he would complain to people passing, cautioning them and sometimes even accusing them of fouling the pathway.

The other, wiser neighbour, was simply using the dung to fertilise his garden.

What do we carrying around that makes us stink? Do you carry your complaints? Your grumbles? Your injustices? Do they make you unpleasant to be around?

Wouldn’t it be wiser to use the events of our lives to fertilize the garden of our being?

We can transform the bad in our lives and even grow from it.

Credit for this story goes to Ajahn Chah, Ajahn Brahm (who ordered this truckload of dung) and Chogyam Trungpa (The manure of life and the field of Bodhi).

Peace and love

Acceptance like a Zen master; Is that so

There was a Zen master who lived a peaceful, illuminated life of acceptance. He was a source of wisdom for the local community. Within the community, there was a respected family with one daughter of 18 years age.

The daughter was pregnant and soon her belly became too large to conceal. Her enraged father demanded to know who was responsible. Initially the daughter resisted telling but eventually in tears muttered the name of the Zen master. The father stormed to the house of the Zen master and confronted him, “You have fathered a child with my young daughter, you swine!” The Zen master replied “Is that so”.

Her baby was born a few weeks later; a healthy boy. Her father immediately took the child and gave it to the Zen master shouting, ‘Here! it’s your child! you look after it”. The Zen master replied, “Is that so”.

A year later the daughter confessed to her family that the father was actually a handsome young man who worked at the local baker store. The father returned to the Zen master, he explained the huge error. The Zen master replied, “Is that so” and handed the baby back to the father.

The Zen master was able to accept all manner of circumstance without feeling a need for complaint or objection. Can we do the same?

I try to remember this story throughout the challenges of life. Sometimes facing a situation, an attack in words, or some other circumstance. I try to find the space to stop and say “is that so” and in doing so try to avoid the need to complain or wish otherwise.

A word of caution, however, some people will react with more hostility if you speak, “is that so”. So I often find its better to just think it without muttering the words.

Two monks carrying a burden

An older and a younger monk are walking back to their monastery when they notice a young woman passed out in the middle of a busy road.

The older monk tries to rouse her without response, before finally picking her up and carrying her from the road to safety. He manages to wake her and set her safely on her way. The younger monk is shocked and could not believe what he had seen happen.

They walk in silence for an hour, two hours, three then four before finally the younger monk can no longer suppress his feelings and says “You should not have picked up that girl, we are not allowed to handle women.” The other monk responds, “are you still carrying her? I put her down hours ago.”

What burden do you carry in the mind long after it ceased to exist?

Enter Zen from there; A simple Zen story of how to find peace

A learning student of Zen practice was out for a stroll with a more experienced teacher. They walked through the mountains near their accommodation. Majestic views, a cool evening, everything so calm, truly a blissful environment to walk.

After some time the student said to his friend, “I am trying to find Zen* but I keep thinking about where best to begin and how to do it”.

They continue walking for a few minutes. The student, lost now in further worry, begins to think his friend might not have heard the remark. He opens his mouth to speak again when his teacher comments. “Do you hear the steam? Enter Zen from there.”

The student listens for a minute or two, paying attention until he eventually hears the sound of a distant stream. “Satori”** He realised something he could not express.

They continue walking and for the first time the student experiences all there is around him. After some time however, his mind intrudes upon this peace. He asks his teacher, “What would you have said if I could not hear the stream? If I heard or saw something else?”

His teacher responds, “Enter Zen from there.”

We can choose to enter mindful alertness and find peace at any time using anything. I find myself guilty of demanding the ‘right’ circumstances sometimes. But, we can instead just choose to be alert and alive to the unfolding moments. Don’t let the mind make excuses or conjure layers of complexity.

We can enter Zen from anywhere!

*Zen – Something words cannot describe, but perhaps the state of completeness with the universe, mindfulness, alertness, presence.

**Satori – A sudden realisation or enlightenment.

Sign posts to the moon

A young spiritual learner was out for a walk with a wise old master and his dog. The evening was peaceful and cool. They walked in silence.

After some time the novice says to the wise master, “I have been learning various spiritual teachings on meditation and mindfulness”.

The master nods his head.

The novice then confesses that he has recently become lost with meditation. That the more he studies, the more lost he becomes. The various teachings say different things. So now, he does not know what to do anymore.

“Wise master”, he asks. “Do I look at the tip of my nose? or do I close my eyes? do I sit or stand? please tell me which approach is best and end this confusion”.

The master smiles. He the points to the moon and commands his dog to look at the moon. The dog simply stares at his pointing finger.

The master then explains, “Words are conceptualisation and are merely pointers to something beyond; do not focus on the pointing fingers or you will never find the moon”.

-x-

“All words about spiritual values are just hints. Don’t hold onto the words as if they are realities. They are hints, almost the way I can point to the moon with my finger – but don’t catch hold of my finger. My finger is not the moon. Although my finger was pointing to the moon, it was only a hint.”

Zarathustra: A God That Can Dance