The Inn

Photo courtesy of Shayan (USA), Flickr

Photo courtesy of Shayan (USA), Flickr

The master came storming into the palace. So serious was his mien that none of the guards dared stop him. He came upon the throne room and faced the king.

“What is it you want?” said the king.

“I need a place to sleep in this inn,” replied the master.

“This is no inn,” replied the king. “This is my palace.”

“Who owned this palace before you?” asked the master.

“Why, my father, of course, who was king before I was,” replied the king.

“And before that?” asked the master again.

“Well, that would be my grandfather, my father’s father.” replied the king.

“I see,” said the master. “And this place where people stay for a while and then move on, did I hear you say it was not an inn?”

Robbing God of His Glory

The master and his disciples walked past a small gathering. A preacher was in the middle of the crowd and he declared, “We should be dismayed that God is robbed of his glory in this sinful world where people slander him and worship all sorts of idols.”

Photo courtesy of David Sifry, Flickr

Photo courtesy of David Sifry, Flickr

Later, the master remarked to his disciples, “If this God is indeed so great and powerful, I don’t understand how he can be robbed of his glory. Saying that God is robbed of his glory is like saying that you contaminate the entire ocean by pissing on the beach.”

What is holiness?

A pilgrim stopped by the temple where a master resided who was known for his holiness. A disciple ushered him inside and led him to the courtyard at the back.

Photo courtesy of swami stream, Flickr

Photo courtesy of swami stream, Flickr

The pilgrim heard boisterous laughter and the sounds of merrymaking coming from a bend in the garden. He turned the bend and was surprised to see the master and several disciples seated around a small table. They were sharing a bottle of wine, singing, laughing, swapping jokes and slapping one another’s back.

The pilgrim turned to the disciple who had led him there. “This is an outrage,” he said. “I thought that this master was supposed to be a very holy man.”

“Oh, he is a holy man,” replied the smiling disciple. “But you should know that it is one thing for a man to be holy. And it is a totally different thing that he should seem holy to you. Who are you to judge what is holy or not?”

Life’s Little Secret

“Life’s little secret is this,” said the master to his visitor as they conversed over tea. “Never take it too seriously. Learn to laugh — at everything — and you learn to live,”

The visitor pondered on this, and the master continued, “I have had a total of four disciples under me. When they began their training, I gave them a set of rigorous physical and spiritual exercises. The first disciple was too weak and couldn’t handle the pressure so he ran away. The second was too meticulous in trying to follow every minute detail of the exercises that he drove himself crazy. The third tried to challenge himself to do more than what the exercises required and one day he injured himself fatally and died. Only the fourth disciple remained healthy and sane.”

Photo courtesy of beggs, Flickr

Photo courtesy of beggs, Flickr

“And how did he manage to do that?” asked the visitor.

“Well, he took one look at the exercises and said, ‘No sane man would do those things and you must be crazy if you think I’d do them,’ so he refused to do them,” replied the master, chuckling.

Holy Man

photo courtesy of g_jacobsen, sxc.hu

photo courtesy of g_jacobsen, sxc.hu

Word spread around the kingdom that a holy man had moved into a hut near the base of a nearby mountain. The king wanted to see this man to ask for advice on how to handle the many problems he faced. So one day, he rode out to the mountain with a dozen soldiers and came to the holy man’s hut.

He saw a young, well-built man chopping wood outside the hut and thought this must be the holy man’s apprentice or servant.

“Hey there,” said the king. “I would like to speak to the holy man. May I come in and see him?”

“Of course, your majesty,” said the young man. “Please come in.”

The young man showed him inside the hut, which contained only a small table, a couple of old chairs, some utensils and a cot in the corner. The king stood and looked around, wondering where the holy man would come from. The young man sat in the corner and said, “After you’re done, you may leave whenever you wish.”

“I don’t understand,” said the king. “I said I wanted to see the holy man.”

“You already have,” said the young man. “And if you want my advice, here it is. See every man or woman you meet as holy. That should take care of most of your problems. Good day, your majesty.”

Solid Ground

Photo courtesy of hashmil, Flickr

Photo courtesy of hashmil, Flickr

The new disciple approached the master and said, “I cannot take this any more. You are slowly stripping away all my traditions, all the beliefs I had ingrained in me since childhood. Why are you doing this? I need some solid ground.”

The master replied, “What is the solid ground of the fish swimming in the vastness of the ocean? Or of the migratory bird as it glides across continents?”

River Water

Photo courtesy of Jenny Downing, Flickr

Photo courtesy of Jenny Downing, Flickr

After breakfast one day, the master addressed his disciples and said:

“All I do is sit by the riverbank selling river water. And all you fools come, and line up and wait to buy this water, not realizing that any time, you can go to the river and draw water for yourselves.”

A Moon’s Reflection

Photo courtesy of clairity, Flickr

Photo courtesy of clairity, Flickr

Back when I was still unmarried and living in another city that was close to the sea, I used to hang out with my friends at the beach. Sometimes we would even spend the night there.

I remember this one night. It was near midnight and we were outside sitting on the sand chatting and feeling the sea breeze blow through our hair. One of us suddenly says, “Hey, look at the moon.”

It had been cloudy a bit earlier but now the sky was clear and the full moon hung like a big ball of light in the sky. The sea was calm and the moon’s reflection on it was quite breathtaking, the ripples of the waves caused the light to glint and dance. It seemed the reflection was even more beautiful than the moon itself.

Earlier tonight, I walked on the dirty, wet streets of the city I now reside in. The heavy rain from earlier on had abated. A passing car almost splashed muddy water on me as it sped across a small puddle. I glared at the car’s tail lights and was about to move on when I caught the moon’s reflection on the puddle. It was a full moon and it was beautiful.

Too often in life, we chase after those things that are beautiful and try to avoid those that are ugly. We run after prestige, money, power, good food, good wine. We don’t like pain, and we don’t like to experience hardships.

Yet, we should remember that the moon casts a beautiful reflection whether it casts it on the sea or on a muddy puddle. The moon is still the moon and its beauty is not marred by the medium of reflection.

Life has so many facets and forms but underneath it all, our substance is the same. We should learn to see the beauty in life, whether it takes the form of a rose or of a rat. These are just external manifestations of the same inner core and substance.

In the end, we should recognize the beauty of all things, of all people, and accept that we are all reflections of the one truth, that we are all part of each other, and that there is no beauty or ugliness apart from ourselves.

How Many Disciples?

Photo courtesy of Racoles, Flickr

Photo courtesy of Racoles, Flickr

A visitor came to the monastery where the master resided. He was amazed at the huge number of monks he saw everywhere. “There must be over two or three thousand of them here,” he thought.

When he was finally ushered in to see the master, the first question he asked was, “Revered sir, exactly how many disciples do you have in this place?”

The master replied, “Oh, I think around four or five at the most.”

Life After Death

Photo courtesy of takomabibelot, Flickr

Photo courtesy of takomabibelot, Flickr

“Master,” said the disciple. “Is there life after death?”

“Why do you ask?” said the master.

“I was just thinking how horrible it would be not to love or laugh or sing or dream,” said the disciple.

The master laughed. “Most people don’t even do those things before death. Or if they do, they do them only superficially. The right question is, ‘Is there life before death?’”

Against the Scriptures

A man once approached the Master and said, “Your teachings are radical and thought-provoking but I cannot find them in the Scriptures.”

“Then put them in there,” replied the Master.

“But some of your teachings even go as far as contradicting some passages of Scriptures,” replied the man.

“Then amend the scriptures,” replied the Master. “Scripture was made for man, not man for scripture.”

Holy Cat

Photo courtesy of eva101, Flickr

Photo courtesy of eva101, Flickr

The head monk had a pet cat that had a nasty habit of meowing and rubbing against the monks’ bodies at common prayer time. The head monk then decided that the cat should be tied when all the monks gathered for communal prayer.

Just a couple of years later, the head monk died of old age but the cat still lived. The monks continued to tie the cat during prayer time.

After a few more years, the cat died. The monks immediately bought another one to replace it, and they still tied it at prayer time.

Two hundred years later, a visitor came by the monastery and observed that the monks would chase a cat and tie it up right before prayer time. When he asked about this, the host monk began a short discourse on the righteous merits of tying a cat during prayer time.

The Price of Truth

zencomics-002 the price of truth

The Master’s Cat

The master kept a cat that was so adorable that pretty soon, his disciples were divided into two factions, each wanting to claim responsibility for taking care of the cat. The rivalry between the two groups became so intense that one day, the master grabbed the cat and a sword in front of the disciples and said, “If you don’t say the right word now, I will cut this cat in two and give half to each of you so that you will stop fighting.”

There was an uproar as the disciples uttered different words in an effort to save the cat.

One shouted, “Love!”

Another said, “Compassion!”

Still another said, “No more fighting!”

All were met by a vigorous shake of the master’s head. He then lowered the cat and prepared to strike it. Suddenly, a young monk who had not been interested in the quarrels and the factions leaped to the master and slapped his face.

The other disciples stood in shocked silence, fully expecting the master’s fury at the one who had disrespected him in such a fashion.

But the master merely rubbed his cheek, smiled, and said, “This young monk has saved the cat.”

How Do You Know?

Photo courtesy of Lady Orlando, flickr
Photo courtesy of Lady Orlando, flickr

One day, the master and his disciples took a walk in the park. They passed by a small pond that had fishes swimming to and fro.

“Look how happy the fish are as they swim around in the pond,” said the master.

A bystander nearby scoffed, “How do you know the fish are happy? You’re not a fish.”

“And how do you know that I don’t know that they’re happy?” countered the master, “You are not me.”

A Lesson in Chewing

The disciple said to the master, “All you do is tell us stories, but you never explain them. How are we supposed to learn anything?”

The master said, “Come now, no need to be so hotheaded. We can discuss over a light snack. Would you like some bread and cheese?”

“Okay,” said the disciple.

The master broke off a piece of bread and put it in his mouth. He then bit off a piece of cheese. After chewing the food for a while, he spat it out in a bowl and handed it to the disciple.

“Here’s your bread and cheese,” said the master.

“But I can’t eat that! You already chewed it and spat it out,” cried the shocked disciple.

“True,” said the master, “I cannot chew your food for you. And neither can I feed you the lessons in my stories. Those are for you to chew and taste and swallow.”

Those Who Know

The master and his disciples passed by a small crowd where a theologian was discussing emphatically about heaven and hell. Some of the disciples stopped to listen for a while and so the master also stopped to accommodate their curiosity.

Later on, he heard some of his disciples arguing among themselves. Some said the theologian was brilliant in his arguments while others disagreed and pointed out the flaws. Finally they turned to the master to ask his opinion on the matter.

Photo courtesy of boycek, sxc.hu

Photo courtesy of boycek, sxc.hu

The master just smiled and said, “There is a saying–and it applies perfectly in this case–that those who say a lot do not know anything, and those who know a lot do not say anything.”

“What do you mean?” asked the disciples.

“How many of you know what a rose smells like?” asked the master.

All of the disciples raised their hands.

“Now, put it into words,” said the master.

Everyone fell silent, and understood.

The Secret

We dance around in a ring and suppose;

But the Secret sits in the middle, and knows.

– Robert Frost

Fire

One night, the old master lay in bed, knowing that hisĀ  time was near. He called his disciple over and said, “Before I die, I want you to know that you will be my successor. I have here a journal that has passed through seven generations of masters. Each one has added to the journal his own thoughts and insights into the Truth. Here, take this.”

“Master,” replied the disciple, “I have learned the Truth from you without the aid of any journal. I have no need of it.”

“Nevertheless,” said the master, “I want you to have it as a symbol that I have passed my knowledge and authority to you.”

The disciple then bowed and took the journal from the master’s outstretched hand. It did not stay in his hand for long as he promptly threw it into the fire that was keeping them warm.

At this, the master leaped up and shouted, “Are you insane? What are you doing? That was the knowledge of seven generations!”

The disciple replied, “You must be insane yourself. What are you saying?”

At this, the master clapped a hand on the disciple’s shoulder, and laughed long and hard until he had to lie down. In a moment, he passed away.

The Party

Some wealthy and influential people had heard about the master and they wanted to meet him, so they sent a messenger to invite him to a special banquet.

The master arrived at the party wearing beggar’s robes and the people were immediately repulsed and shooed him away. He immediately went home, washed his face, put on an expensive cloak, and returned to the party where he was immediately ushered into the circle of the rich and powerful.

He bowed to them, took off his cloak and draped it on his seat.

“I showed up a while ago but you shooed me away, so I hope you enjoy talking to the cloak because you have obviously sent your invitation to it, and not to me.”

And he walked away.