A Zen Story
Paradox — or the appearance of paradox — seems to be at the heart of a lot of Zen stories, which also often take the form of a short conversation between two monks — though it could be any two of us.
For example, here’s a story about a conversation in which two men get off to a bad start, and emerge realizing not conflict but the simple (and elusive) fact of being. They both forgot themselves and knew themselves. They came to life in the midst of death. How can that be? How can we reconcile those apparent contradictions?
Let’s imagine two people meeting — rounding the same corner on the same narrow mountain trail, rock on one side, an abyss on the other. They are walking in opposite directions. So they literally bump into each other.
At first, let’s say, they’re surprised and then irritated. They both want the other to get out of the way. But under the circumstances, that’s not practical.
“Where have you come from?” one asks, not politely.
“From India,” the other one replied, “I assume you haven’t been there.”
“If I had, I’d be there,” said the other, testily and enigmatically. “Tell me something more interesting.”
“You wouldn’t get it if I did tell you,” his partner replied.
Then, somehow, a turning point. Mysterious, but a turning nonetheless. They might have come to blows, but both realized that might well lead to a fatal fall. So instead, something begins to change between the two. Instead of taking the bait, the partner found himself saying,
“Maybe I’d get half of it, and you’d have the other half, so together we’d have the whole.”
That seemed intriguing, and they were silent together, contemplating. No more words for a while.
One then said, “If we said it, no one will get it.” The implication perhaps being, not even us.
So more silent contemplation.
Finally, the other one answered, “It’s not that they won’t get it, but no one can say it.” There are no descriptive words, theirs or anybody else’s.
With that, the first monk reached out and touched the second gently on the side of his head, and in that moment both experienced a shiver of simply being — in their bodies, minds and hearts.
Each went on his way with livelier step, less self-conscious, feeling more awake, not having the slightest idea what happened.
So let’s say it’s up to us.
What happened? Perhaps some kind of radical openness. Is there anything in your experience, your life, of which their experience reminds you? I have a hunch we’re not going to figure it out. Meditation may help.