To me, Zen stories stand for mindful living and minimalist habits. Likewise, they set a unique benchmark for coherence and minimalism in story-telling. Even though the message, quite often, may be subtle and even escape me altogether; as prose, they read like beautiful, concise and elegant blocks of programming code :) - having the same time-honored qualities of being simple, readable, single-purpose and piercingly precise! And they are profound and timeless! Which makes them a fascinating read any time.
One of the many stories that stand out in my memory from the book Zen Flesh, Zen Bones, is about a Zen master, who, having happily given away his last of material possessions to a thief he had caught red-handed; sits naked, basking in the moonlit sky, in quiet wonderment of creation. His only regret being that his moment of bliss and contentment under the moon cannot be given to the thief. The moon that shines on the thief alike, but is wholly lost on him. And the master knows that his real "riches" - a beautiful moment such as this - can neither be stolen, nor be given away to another at will!
Here's the Zen story, verbatim -
Ryokan, a Zen master, lived the simplest kind of life in a little hut at the foot of a mountain. One evening a thief visited
the hut only to discover there was nothing in it to steal.
Ryokan returned and caught him. "You may have come a long way to visit me," he told the prowler, "and you should not return empty-handed. Please take my clothes as a gift. "
The thief was bewildered. He took the clothes and slunk away.
Ryokan sat naked, watching the moon. "Poor fellow, " he mused, "I wish I could give him this beautiful moon."
Source: The Moon Cannot be Stolen | ZEN FLESH, ZEN BONES
Reminds me also of the protagonist Lizzy, from the brilliant "Pride and Prejudice", acknowledging the same, as she puts herself in the shoes of her beloved sister on the latter's new found fortune - "Till I have your disposition, your goodness, I never can have your happiness."
"Life of Pi" had this beautiful philosophy about "choosing the better story"; which essentially tells you that ultimately it is how we interpret our own realities, based on our personal ideals, that gives meaning to our experiences and a shape/direction to our existence. It goes without saying that it takes a highly elevated state of mind-and-soul to actually work out "the better story" in the face of such utmost adversity!
As someone with zero visualization; thoughts (in the form of words, without an associated "vision" in the literal sense) and feelings are my only medium of exploring reality. Nonetheless, they are both rich and powerful. People naturally confuse a lack of "vision" (again, in the literal sense) with a lack of imagination - which is not really true. I actually do have quite a rich "inner life", not entirely bereft of imagination - and often so much richer than the world outside that it is only natural to "turn inward".
Would like to wrap up this post with these wonderful and precious insights from the Booker winning novel! -
The world isn't just the way it is. It is how we understand it, no? And in understanding something, we bring something to it, no? Doesn't that make life a story?
So tell me, since it makes no factual difference to you and you can't prove the question either way, which story do you prefer? Which is the better story?
It was my first clue that atheists are my brothers and sisters of a different faith, and every word they speak speaks of faith. Like me, they go as far as the legs of reason will carry them - and then they leap.
I can well imagine an atheist's last words: "White, white! L-L-Love! My God!" - and the deathbed leap of faith. Whereas the agnostic, if he stays true to his reasonable self, if he stays beholden to dry, yeastless factuality, might try to explain the warm light bathing him by saying, "Possibly a f-f-failing oxygenation of the b-b-brain," and, to the very end, lack imagination and miss the better story.
Amidst battling a nasty cold during this visit to Kolkata, I managed to rummage through and pull out this old possession of a book. It was an unusual gift of an expensive but used book, from a prominent sculptor/mural artist - Late Alokmoy/Alo Datta - on his very first visit to our place. I can't recall whether the date signed stands for the day he had acquired the book for himself (most likely), or the day he fondly gave it to us shortly after having read it. Either way, I was too young for this book, and it had taken me almost a decade thereafter to finally pick it up one fine day and finish it cover to cover. Now, with almost another decade gone by, what still lingers on my mind is it's beautifully-crafted one-pager gem of an opening tale! - a dead simple narrative with such a profound spiritual lesson in it! Check it out for yourself - bare your whole soul, and liberally soak in all the wisdom! :-)
