Wandering Monk
The Monastery Garden
In ancient times a Zen master, monk and philosophical teacher of profound insight, once was teaching a group of brother monks about the deeper meanings of life. Upon completion of his lecture in the meetinghouse that day one young monk approached and asked a question of him. Wanting to know from what source this teacher acquired such insight. The monk asked, "Tell me wonderful teacher, are you a divine being from another world? Are you an angel that has been sent to us to open our minds? Are you a prophet or perhaps even a god? The master looked at him with love and caring, seeing before him a child that was not yet in touch with his own true essence.
A soft and loving smile crossed his lips and he placed a hand upon the young man's shoulder. "My dear brother", he said in a tone of respect and compassion, "I am not any of these things." The young monk looked perplexed and asked the master again. "How is it that you are blessed with such great knowledge of the world and of things even beyond this life?" More...
The Farmer
The air had grown chillier the next day signaling the rapid advance of winter. The Zen master had assembled the monks together in the morning and had bid them a farewell. He was beginning his journey into the southland where he had not traveled before. With winter coming on, it would be warmer there allowing him the freedom of travel without the restriction of harsh winter conditions. The time had come for him to venture forth, to teach to other sentient beings that had not yet heard his word. With little more than a rice bowl and a few handfuls of rice he set out on a path that had been little traveled. Through meadows and hills he walked, slowly without hurry, happening upon a farmhouse as the sun was beginning to descend behind the clouds that capped the mountains in the distance.
The farmer, a lean and muscular young man, was tending to the livestock when he saw the master approach. As was customary with country people he greeted him with a deep bow and extended his hospitality, inviting this teacher into his home to warm himself by the fire and to partake of the humble meal his wife had prepared. Sitting at the table the master enjoyed the chatter of the farmer's children and the attention of the farmer's wife. It was rare that they had visitors, particularly one of spiritual inclination. They were eager to hear what their guest could tell them about his travels and about his gained wisdom. More...
The Serpent
The dawn had come gently and quietly. Slowly the wandering monk awoke from his peaceful slumber to the delightful sounds and smells of the forest. High in the boughs of the pine trees that surrounded him a variety of song birds flitted from branch to branch, bathing in the glory of the morning. A scent of pine and juniper filled the crisp air awakening the monk's senses and filling his heart with joy and gratitude. He felt a kinship to these creatures as he watched them attentively attend to their young. At the very basic level they had needs that were not unlike his own. He slowly gathered up his solitary bowl and sleepily started on the trail to the babbling creek below the ridge.
The wandering monk dipped his bowl into the clear cool water of the creek and began to sip, refreshing himself. Suddenly from the corner of his eye he saw a movement on the ground. He turned his head to see that it was a reptile, a snake, a creature feared by many. More...
The Warlord
As the sun crested the hilltops, the master ventured forth into the morning mist. In his hand he carried a walking stick, one that the farmer had fashioned for him from the branch of an old sycamore tree. Placing one foot in front of the other cautiously, he picked his way along the narrow pathway that led down the mountain into the valley far below. The feeling swept over him that this would be a treacherous, but necessary journey. He felt a deep inner peace and a knowing that all would be well as long as he practiced keeping his mind focused on the present moment. It is in doing this, he knew, that would keep him safe as it heightened all his senses and his instincts. He would be mindful of the feelings of intuition that spoke to him through the vibrations of his body and the nature that surrounded him.
The night had been a restful one with vivid and colorful dreams that spoke to him of coming events. He had awakened with a sense of drama unfolding, and yet he was at a very peaceful place in his soul. He had almost a childlike sense of adventure urging him onward into this experience. There was an eagerness that drove him onward and he was anxious to know what delightful experiences lay before him. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he was entering the domain of one of the fiercest warlords in the region that caused his sense of excitement. After all, he would be considered a trespasser and would most certainly be challenged to explain the reason for his presence there. It would be obvious to the warlord that he was neither a peasant farmer nor one of his soldiers. The wandering monk continued on down the mountain path, descending into the valley below, meditating as he walked, focusing upon the unfolding of the tiniest moments and giving no more thought to the warlord or to what lay ahead. More...