The Way

There was once a novice monk who went up a mountain seeking a Zen master's tutelage. When he found the master at last, seated under the bodhi tree, he gave a deep bow and pleaded with the master to keep him as his disciple.

One day, halfway through his meditation, he asked his master."Master, I have learnt this art of meditation since I was a child when my parents left me to the abbot's care. Why do I have to sit here beside you all day long and you have not taught me anything more eversince the first day I arrived? Didn't you promise to help me get to the Way?"

The Master got up from his spot under the shade of the tree. "Here, you may seat yourself under this tree." The monks exchanged places and was momentarily satisfied with his Master's favourite seat. He remained seated for some time more. But still, the days grew longer and longer, and soon, the little monk's growing impatience got the better of him. Being unable to focus, he asked his teacher, " Master, may I know how long will it take for me to be where you are?"

"Maybe soon. Maybe tomorrow."

"Master, what if I worked extra hard and meditate here day and night?"

"1 year. Maybe more."

"What if I swear never to leave this spot and even half the time for my meals and sleep?"

"10 or more."

The little monk grew perplexed. "Master, why is it that when I said I would work even harder, you would say it would take a longer time to master?"

"That is because when you strain one of your eyes to look at your future, you have only one left to find your way."

(The answer lies not in the spot where one is seated. Nor does it lie in the length of time that one spends at a given activity. Truth is like a friendship that blossoms along the way.)