Awakening Stories For Life 6

Where in the World is My Home?

A man is up a tree, hanging by his mouth: his hands can't grasp a limb, his feet can't touch the ground. Another man walks under the tree and asks: "What is the meaning of the Bodhidharma's coming from the West?" If the man hanging on the tree doesn't answer, he evades his duty. If he answers, he loses his life. What should he do?
—A Zen Koan

*

Once a psychiatrist asked Suzuki Roshi about consciousness.
"I know nothing about it," Suzuki said. "I just try to teach my students how to hear the birds sing."

*

Before I came to Zen, mountains were only mountains, rivers only rivers, trees only trees. After I got into Zen, mountains were no longer mountains, rivers no longer rivers, trees no longer trees. But when enlightenment happened, mountains were again only mountains, rivers again only rivers, trees again only trees.
—Zen koan

*

"Come to the edge," A said.
"I'm afraid," B said.
"Come to the edge," A said.
"I'm afraid," B said.
"Come to the edge," A said.
"And B came to the edge.
"Jump," A said.
And B jumped.
And B flew.
—Author Unknown

*

A friend of mine once went to see Ajahn Sumedho, and was complaining to him about how miserable he felt over a lost love. Sumedho made a few suggestions, and my friend said, "But I just can't let it go."
Sumedho told him, "Well, be miserable for the rest of your life then," and laughed a hearty laugh.
—Story told by Gill Eardley

*

"Why do you always answer a question with another question, Mulla?
"Do I?"
—Sufi story collected by Idries Shah

*

"How can I be more like you?" she asked the guru.

And the guru answered: "The best way to be more like me is to be more like you."

—Alan Cohen

*

If God had a refrigerator, your picture would be on it. If He had a wallet, your photo would be in it. He sends you flowers every spring and a sunrise every morning... Face it, friend. He is crazy about you!
—Max Lucado

*

About dogs ...but it's really about the cat
From a lost chapter in the Book of Genesis: Where Dogs Come From...

Adam was walking in the garden and cried out to God, "You used to
walk with me every day. Now I do not see you anymore. I am lonely
here, and it is difficult for me to remember how much you love me."
And God said, "I will create a companion for you that will be with
you forever and who will be a reflection of my love for you, so that
you will love me even when you cannot see me. Regardless of how
selfish or childish or unlovable you may be, this new companion will
accept you as you are and will love you as I do, in spite of yourself."
And God created a new animal to be a companion for Adam.
And it was a good animal.
And God was pleased.
And the new animal was pleased to be with Adam and he wagged his tail.
And Adam said, "Lord, I have already named all the animals in the
kingdom and I cannot think of a name for this new animal."
And God said, "Because I have created this new animal to be a reflection
of my love for you, his name will be a reflection of my own name, and you will call him DOG."
And Dog lived with Adam and was a companion to him and loved him.
And Adam was comforted.
And God was pleased.
And Dog was content and wagged his tail.
After a while, it came to pass that Adam's guardian angel came to the
Lord and said, "Lord, Adam has become filled with pride. He struts and preens like a peacock and he believes he is worthy of adoration. Dog has indeed taught him that he is loved, but perhaps too well."
And the Lord said, "I will create for him a companion who will be with him forever and who will see him as he is. The companion will remind him of his limitations, so he will know that he is not always worthy of adoration."
And God created CAT to be a companion to Adam.
And Cat would not obey Adam.
And when Adam gazed into Cat's eyes, he was reminded that he was not the Supreme Being.
And Adam learned humility.
And God was pleased.
And Adam was greatly improved.
And Dog was happy.
And Cat didn't give a shit one way or the other.
—Author Unknown
 

George Demont Otis        Gray Day

The Mulla was made a magistrate. During the first case the plaintiff argued so persuasively that he exclaimed: "I believe you are right!"
The clerk of the court begged him to restrain himself, for the defendant had not been heard yet.
Nasrudin was so carried away by the eloquence of the defendant that he cried out as soon as the man had finished his evidence: "I believe you are right!"
The clerk of the court could not allow this. "Your honor, they cannot both be right."
"I believe you are right!" said Nasrudin.
—Sufi story as collected by Idries Shah

Alice came to a fork in the road. "Which road do I take?" she asked.
"Where do you want to go?" responded the Cheshire cat.
"I don't know," Alice answered.
"Then," said the cat, "it doesn't matter."
—Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

*

Nasrudin was approached by one of his aspiring students. "What do you want from me?" asked Nasrudin.
"I want liberation, oh master! Enlightenment!" exclaimed the student earnestly.
""I" is ego. "Want" is desire. Get rid of both, and you are free!" adviced Nasrudin.
—Sufi story as collected by Idries Shah

*

One day the villagers thought they would play a joke on Nasrudin. As he was supposed to be a holy man of some indefinable sort, they went to him and asked him to preach a sermon in their mosque. He agreed.
When the day came, Nasrudin mounted the pulpit and spoke: "O people! Do you know what I am going to tell you?"
"No, we do not know," they cried.
"Until you know, I cannot say. You are too ignorant to make a start on," said the Mulla, overcome with deep indignation that such ignorant people whould waste his time. He descended from the pulpit and went home.
Slightly chagrined, a deputation went to his house again, and asked him to preach the following Friday, the day of prayer.
Nasrudin started his sermon with the same question as before.
This time the congregation answered, as one man: "Yes, we know."
"In that case," said the Mullas, "there is no need for me to detain you longer. You may go." And he returned home.
Having been prevailed upon to preach for the third Friday in succession, he started his address as before: "Do you know or do you not?"
The congregation was ready. Some of us do, and others do not."
"Excellent," said Nasrudin, "then let those who know communicate their knowledge to those who do not."
And he went home.
—A Sufi story as collected by Idries Shah

*

Abraham Lincoln's secretary of war, Edwin Stanton, had some trouble with a major general who accused him, in abusive terms, of favoritism. Stanton complained to Lincoln, who suggested that he write the officer a sharp letter. Stanton did so, and showed the strongly worded missive to the president, who applauded its powerful language: "What are you going to do with it?" he asked. Surprised at the question, Stanton said, "Send it." Lincoln shook his head. "Put it in the stove. That's what I do when I have written a letter while I am angry. It's a good letter and you had a good time writing it and feel better. Now burn it and write another."
—Little, Brown Book of Anecdotes

*

"If you want truth," Nasrudin told a group of Seekers who had come to hear his teachings, "you will have to pay for it."
"But why should you have to pay for something like truth?" asked one of the company.
"Have you not noticed," said Nasrudin, "that it is the scarcity of a thing which determines its value?"
—Sufi story collected by Idries Shah

*

A monk asked Master Haryo, "What is the Way?"
Haryo said, "An open-eyed man falling into a well."
—Zen koan

*

"I cannot get a job," said the Mulla, "because I am already in the service of the All-Highest."
"In that case," said his wife, "ask for your wages, because every employer must pay."
Quite right, thought Nasrudin.
"I have not been paid simply because I have never asked," he said aloud.
"Then you had better go and ask."
Nasrudin went into the garden, knelt and cried out: "O Allah, send me a hundred peices of gold, for all my past services are worth at least that much in back pay."
His neighbour, a money lender, thought he would play a joke on
Nasrudin. Taking a bag of a hundred gold pieces he threw it down from
a window.
Nasrudin stood up with dignity and took the money to his wife. "I am one of the saints," he told her. "Here are my arrears."
She was impressed.
Presently, made suspicious by the succession of delivery men carrying food, clothing and furniture into Nasrudin's house, the neighbour went to get his money back.
"You heard me calling for it, and now you are pretending it is yours," said Nasrudin. "You shall never have it."
The neighbour said that he would take Nasrudin to the court of summary jurisdiction.
"I cannot go like this," said Nasrudin. "I have no suitable clothes, nor have I a horse. If we appear together the judge will be prejudiced in your favor by mean appearance."
The neighbour took off his own cloak and gave it to Nasrudin, then he mounted him on his own horse, and they went before the Cadi.
The plaintiff was heard first.
"What is your defence?" the magistrate asked Nassrudin.
"That my neighbour is insane."
"What evidence have you, Mulla?"
"What better than from his own mouth? He thinks that everything
belongs to him. If you ask him about my horse, or even my cloak, he
will claim them, let alone my gold."
"But they are mine!" roared the neighbor.
Case dismissed.
—Sufi story as collected by Idries Shah

*

Mullah Nasrudin, standing on the bank of a river, watched as a dog came to drink. The dog saw itself in the water and immediately began to bark. It barked and barked all morning and into the afternoon, until it was foaming at the mouth. Finally, dying of thirst, the dog fell into the river--whereupon it quenched its thirst, climbed out, and happily walked away.
Nasrudin said, "Thus I realized all my life I had been barking at my own reflection."
—Sufi story as collected by Idries Shah

*

Hamza, the homespun philosopher who peddled truisms in the teahouse, was droning on: "How strange is humanity! To think that man is never satisfied! When it is winter, it is too cold for him. In summer, he complains of the heat!"
The others present nodded their heads sagely, for they believed that by so doing they partook of the essence of this wisdom.
Nasrudin looked up from his abstrqaction. "Have you not noticed that nobody ever complains about the spring?
—Sufi story as collected by Idries Shah

*

Mulla Nasrudin had become a favorite at Court. He used his position to show up the methods of the coutiers.
One day the King was exceptionally hungry. Some aubergines had been so deliciously cooked that he told the palace chef to serve them every day.
"Are they not the best vegetables in the world, Mulla?" he asked Nasrudin.
"The very best, Majesty."
Five days later, when the aubergines had been served for the tenth meal in succession, the King roared: "Take these things away! I HATE them!"
"They are the worst vegetables in the world, Majesty," agreed Nasruin.
"But Mulla, less than a week ago you said that they were the very best."
"I did. But I am the servant of the King, not the vegetable."
—Sufi story as collected by Idries Shah

*

How are you?
Perfect, thank you. I'm traveling incognito.
Oh? As what are you disguised?
I am disguised as myself.
Don't be silly. That's no disguise. That's what you are.
On the contrary, it must be a very good disguise for I see it has fooled you completely.
—Sufi story as collected by Idries Shah

*

Pai-chang wished to send a monk to open a new monastery. He gold his pupils that whoever answered a question a question most ably would be appointed. Placing a water jug on the ground, he asked, "Who can say what this is without calling it a name?"
The head monk said, "No one can call it a wooden sandal."
Kuei-shan, the cooking monk, tripped over the jug with his foot and went out.
Pai-chang laughed and said, "The head monk loses."
And Kuei-shan became the Master of the new monastery.
—Author Unknown

*

Butel, the Emperor of Ryo, sent for Fu-daishi to explain the Diamond Sutra. On the appointed day Fu-daishi came to the palace, mounted the platform, rapped on the table before him, then descended and, still not speaking, left.
Butei sat motionless for some minutes, whereupon Shiko, who has seen all that had happened, sent up to him and said, "May I be so bold, sir, as to ask whether you understood?"
The Emperor shook his head sadly.
"What a pity," said Shiko. "Fu-daishi has never been more eloquent."
—Author Unknown
 

George Demont Otis        On the Old Road

The Price of Adding Value

There was once a poor shoemaker whose shop was next to a fine restaurant. Every day the shoemaker would take his lunch of rice and beans out to the back of his shop, where he took great pleasure in the exquisite aromas emanating from the restaurant kitchen next door.
One day the shoemaker received an invoice from the restaurant for his lunches, and he went to speak to the manager about it.
The manager said, "You are enjoying my food while you eat, so you should pay for it!"
The shoemaker refused to pay, and the restaurant sued him. The judge asked the restaurant manager for his side of the story at the hearing.
The manager said, "Every day, this shoemaker sits near our kitchen and smells our food while he eats his lunch. We are adding value to his simple mean, and we should be paid for it."
The judge then asked the shoemaker for his side of the story.
The shoemaker said nothing, but stuck his hand in his pocket and rattled around the change he had inside.
"What is the meaning of that?" asked the judge.
The shoemaker answered, "I'm paying for the smell of his food with the sound of my money."

What Isn't Love?

I decided to ask Swami a question. He had been baking all morning, dusting cocoa powder on fragile white cookies. "What isn't love?" I wanted to know.

He put his fingers on his nose to wipe away some cocoa and then sat down at the kitchen table. I sat down with him and waited.

"That, my dear, is an unnecessary question. What isn't love does not exist." He said this emphatically.

"Does hate exist?" I said, trying to go at it in a different direction.

"If hate isn't love, it doesn't exist," he said.

"Why is there so much suffering in the world, Swami?"

"Because the world does not exist," he said.

He smiled then and lit a candle of hope in my heart. It smelled like vanilla.

I got up and poured us two mugs of tea to go with the delicate cookies.

"What is the best spiritual practice?" I asked him.

"I don't know," he said.

"What do you mean ‘I don't know'"?

"The best spiritual practice is not to know. To just be."

"I seem to get in a lot of trouble that way," I said.
"You have to be conscious that you are being. That is all. Just know yourself as someone who doesn't know, who can't know. Knowing is so fifteen seconds ago. Being doesn't know. It just is." And with that he stood up and left the room. The vanilla remained.

*

Once Hyakujo and his teacher, Baso, were taking a walk when a wild duck flew by. Baso asked: "What's that?"
"A wild duck," Hyakujo replied.
"Where did it go?"
Hyakujo said, "It is gone," and at that moment Baso grabbed Hyakujo's nose and twisted it forcefully until Hyakujo shricked in pain.
"There," said Baso, "where can it go?"
At that moment Hyakujo was enlightened. The next day, after paying homage to Baso, Hyakujo returned to his room and started crying. A monk asked him what was the matter, and Hyakujo told him to ask Baso. When the monk did this, Baso said, "Go ask Hyakujo."
When the confused monk asked Hyakujo, Hyakujo burst out laughing. "First I cried, now I laugh," and he laughed and laughed, uncontrollably laughing away all the pressure that had built up internally since studying with Baso.

*

Two men looked out through prison bars.
One saw mud; the other –stars...

*

A visitor asked a Chinese Zen master: "Where do we ho when we die?"
"I'll go straight to hell," said the master.
"You?" the visitor asked, surprised. "You're a good Zen master. Why you?"
"If I don't, who will teach you?"
—Zen mondo

*

Prince Wen Hui's cook was cutting up a bullock. Every blow of his hand, every heave of his shoulder, every tread of his foot, every thrust of his knee, every sound of rending flesh, and every note of the movement of the chopper were in perfect harmony—rhythmical like the dance of "The Mulberry Grove," simultaneous like the chords of the "Ching Shou."
"Ah, admirable," said the prince, "that your art should become so perfect."
The cook laid down his chopper and replied: "What your servant loves is Tao, which is more advanced than art. When I first began to cut up bullocks, what I saw was simply whole bullocks. After three years' practice, I saw no more bullocks as wholes. At present, I work with my mind, but not with my eyes. The functions of my senses stop; my spirit dominates. Following the natural veins, my chopper slips through the great cavities. slides through the great openings, taking advantage of what is already there. I did not attempt the central veins and their branches, and the connectives between flesh and bone, not to mention the great bones. A good cook changes his chopper once a year, because he cuts. An ordinary cook changes his chopper once a month because he hacks. Now my chopper has been in use for nineteen years; it has cut up several thousand bullocks; yet its edge is as sharp as if it just came from the whetstone. At the joints there are always interstices, and the edge of the chopper is without thickness. If we insert that which is without thickness into an interstice, there is plenty of room for it to move along. Nevertheless, when I come to a complicated joint, and see that there will be some difficulty, I proceed anxiously and with caution. I fix my eyes on it. I move slowly. Then by a very gentle movement of my chopper, the part is quickly separated, and yields like earth crumbling to the ground. Then standing with the chopper in my hand, I look all round, with an air of triumph and satisfaction. Then I wipe my chopper and put it in its sheath."
—Chuang Tzu

*

There is an old story from a Peace Corps fellow in Africa who left a TV set behind when the Peace Corps left the village he was staying in.
When the fellow went back five years later, the villagers weren't watching the TV. He asked one of the village leaders, 'Why aren't you watching the television?'
And the leader said, 'Because we have storytellers here.'
The Peace Corp fellow asked, 'But doesn't the TV know more stories than your storyteller?"
And the villager said, "Yes, it does know more stories than our storyteller, but the storyteller knows me.'"
It's all the difference in the world.
Your parents, grandparents, and neighbors all have a story. What is the substance of their life? I don't mean their opinions about politics and stuff they read in the paper or pick up off of CNN or Fox, but what is the truth of their lives? What is the truth of your job, of your tools, or your kin, of your neighborhood?
So, get busy folks and start asking real questions. Not questions where you think you already know the answer, but real questions that turn your curiosity loose."
—Utah Phillips

*

One day the teacher, Sekito, came upon his student, Yakusan, as he sat in meditation. "What are you doing?" Sekito asked.
"Not doing anything," Yakusan replied.
"Then you are just sitting idly," Sekito said.
Yakusan countered: "If I were sitting idly, then I'd be doing something."
"What is it, then, that you're not doing?" Sekito asked.
"Even buddhas don't know," Yakusan answered.

*

"Nasrudin, did any of your students ever get enlightened?"
"Sure, many of them."
"Really? How do you know?"
"Simple. They stopped following me or anyone else and don't talk endlessly about 'enlightenment', 'teachings', 'guidance', 'teachers' etc. They go on with their life fearlessly and joyfully, and do whatever they have to do..."
—Sufi story as collected by Idries Shah
 

George Demont Otis        Voice of Spring

Encouragement
Author Unknown

A neighbor came to visit his friend the chicken farmer and was surprised to
see an eagle strutting around the chicken coop. The farmer explained to him that he had brought the bird to the coop as a chick and later discovered that it was an eagle. He further told his friend that since the bird had been raised a chicken that the bird actually acts like a chicken.
The neighbor knew there was more to this noble bird than his behavior showed as a chicken. The neighbor reached down and lifted the eagle onto the fence surrounding the chicken coop and said, "Eagle, you are an eagle. Stretch your wings and fly." The eagle only looked blankly at the man and clucked. The next day he does the same, putting the bird at a rooftop, still the eagle cluck and return to the coop.
The next morning, the neighbor took the eagle away from the chicken coop to the foot of a high mountain. The man lifted the eagle on his outstretched arm and pointed high into the sky. He spoke: "Eagle, you are an eagle! You therefore belong to the sky and not to the earth. Stretch your wings and fly." This time the eagle stared skyward into the bright sun, straightened his large body, and stretched his massive wings. His wings moved, slowly at first, then surely and powerfully. With the mighty screech of an eagle, he flew away.

*

When Ready to Study the Talmud

A young man asks a rabbi to teach him Talmud.

The rabbi replies, "I don't think you're ready to study Talmud, but I
will give you a question as a test. Two men go down a chimney. One comes
out dirty, and the other clean. Which one washes himself?"

The young man says, "Rabbi, ask me a hard one! Clearly, the dirty man
washes himself and the clean man does not."

The rabbi shakes his head and says, "As I suspected, you're not ready to
study Talmud. Your answer is wrong. Two men go down a chimney. One comes
out dirty, and the other clean. Which one washes himself?"

The young man thinks, and says, "Aha! I see the trick! The dirty man
sees his clean companion, and thinks himself clean, so he doesn't wash.
But the clean man sees how filthy the dirty man is, and assumes that he
himself must be equally dirty. So he washes. Therefore the clean man
washes himself but the dirty man does not."

The rabbi shakes his head and says, "As I suspected, you're not ready to
study Talmud. Your answer is wrong. Two men go down a chimney. One comes
out dirty, and the other clean. Which one washes himself?"

The young man thinks again, and finally says, "Hmmm ... so it must be
that the clean man sees the dirty man and washes, and the dirty man,
seeing the clean man wash, realizes that he himself is dirty, so he
washes too. Therefore both wash. Rabbi, there's much more to this Talmud
stuff than I suspected."

The rabbi shakes his head and says, "As I suspected, you're not ready to
study Talmud. Your answer is wrong. Two men go down a chimney. One comes
out dirty, and the other clean. Which one washes himself?"

Now the young man is thoroughly puzzled, but not discouraged. He thinks
for an even longer time, and says, "Oh my! This is really deep isn't it?
The dirty man sees the clean man, and never suspects that he himself
might be dirty. The clean man sees the dirty man, goes to wash, but
looks in the mirror and sees that he is in fact clean. So neither washes!"

Once more the rabbi shakes his head and says, "As I suspected, you're
not ready to study Talmud. Your answer is wrong. Two men go down a
chimney. One comes out dirty, and the other clean. Which one washes
himself?"

Now the young man, who hasn't studied Torah but has studied logic,
becomes upset. "But Rabbi! It must be one, or the other, or both, or
neither. Those are the only possibilities. How can they all be wrong?"

The rabbi says, "And how is it, my logical young friend, that two men go
down a chimney and both don't wind up covered in soot? When you learn
how not to spend your time answering foolish questions, then you will be
ready to study Talmud."
—Author Unknown

The story of enlightenment is like the darkness catching a glimpse of the light and searching for the light, straining toward the light.

But what the darkness doesn't realize is that light is not its opposite, but its complementary. Although they are never both there at the exact same time, they are both there.

When the darkness sees this clearly, the darkness is enlightened, and the search is over.
—Author Unknown

*

There is an old story from a Peace Corps fellow in Africa who left a TV set behind when the Peace Corps left the village he was staying in.
When the fellow went back five years later, the villagers weren't watching the TV.
He asked one of the village leaders, 'Why aren't you watching the television?'
And the leader said, 'Because we have storytellers here.'
The Peace Corp fellow asked, 'But doesn't the TV know more stories than your storyteller?"
And the villager said, "Yes, it does know more stories than our storyteller, but the storyteller knows me.'"
It's all the difference in the world. Your parents, grandparents, and neighbors all have a story. What is the substance of their life? I don't mean their opinions about politics and stuff they read in the paper or pick up off of CNN or Fox, but what is the truth of their lives? What is the truth of your job, of your tools, or your kin, of your neighborhood?
So, get busy folks and start asking real questions. Not questions where you think you already know the answer, but real questions that turn your curiosity loose."
—Utah Phillips (1935-2008), activist, singer-songwriter, poet, and the "Golden Voice of the Great Southwest"

*

The American dream

An American businessman was standing at the pier of a small coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one fisherman docked. Inside the small boat were several large yellowfin tuna. The American complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish.
"How long did it take you to catch them?" the American asked.
"Only a little while" the Mexican replied.
"Why don't you stay out longer and catch more fish?" the American then asked.
"I have enough to support my family's immediate needs" the Mexican said.
"But" the American then asked, "What do you do with the rest of your time?"
The Mexican fisherman said: "I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take a siesta with my wife, Maria, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life, senor."
The American scoffed: "I am a Harvard MBA and could help you. You should spend more time fishing and with the proceeds you could buy a bigger boat and, with the proceeds from the bigger boat, you could buy several boats. Eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to a middleman, you would sell directly to the consumers, eventually opening your own can factory. You would control the product, processing and distribution. You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then LA and eventually NYC where you will run your expanding enterprise."
The Mexican fisherman asked: "But senor, how long will this all take?"
To which the American replied: "15-20 years."
"But what then, senor?"
The American laughed and said: "That's the best part. When the time is right, you would announce an IPO - an Initial Public Offering - and sell your company stock to the public and become very rich. You would make millions."
"Millions, senor? Then what?"
The American said slowly: "Then you would retire. Move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late , fish a little, play with your kids, take a siesta with your wife, stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos..."

You can guess out the Moral of the story.........
—Author Unknown
 

George Demont Otis        The Desert Bloom