A cracked pot

A water bearer in India had two large pots, each hung on the ends of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in
it, while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion
of water.

At the end of the long walk from the stream to the house, the cracked pot arrived only half full. For a full two years this went on daily,
with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water to his
house.

Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do.

After 2 years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream "I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you. I have been able to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don't get full value from your efforts" the pot said.

The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side?


That's because I have always known about your flaw, and I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back, you've watered them. For two years I have been able to pick these
beautiful flowers to decorate the table. Without you being just the way
you are, there would not be this beauty to grace the house."

A handful of answers

A young student of Zen was going to the market to buy vegetables for the monastery where he was studying. On the way he met a student from another monastery.

“Where are you going?” asked the first student.

“Wherever my legs take me,” replied the other.

The first student pondered over the answer as he was sure it had some deep significance. When he returned to the monastery, he reported the conversation to his teacher, who said: “You should have asked him what he would do if he had no legs.”

The next day the student was thrilled to see the same boy coming towards him.

“Where are you going?” he asked and without waiting for a reply continued, “Wherever your legs take you, I suppose. Well, let me ask you . . .”

“You’re mistaken,” interrupted the other boy. “Today I’m going wherever the wind blows.”

This answer so confused the first boy that he could not think of anything to say.

When he reported the matter to his teacher, the old man said: “You should have asked him what he would do if there were no wind.”

Some days later the student saw the boy in the market again and rushed to confront him, confident that this time he would have the last word.

“Where are you going?” he asked. “Wherever your legs take you or wherever the wind blows? Well, let me ask you . . . . ”

“No, no,” interrupted the boy. “Today I’m going to buy vegetables.”

When truth dawned

Ryokan, the Zen teacher, was requested by his sister-in-law to come to her house and talk to her son.

“He does no work, squanders his father’s money in wild parties and is neglecting the estate,” she complained. “If he does not reform, we will be ruined.”

Ryokan went to his brother’s house and met his nephew who was genuinely pleased to see him. The two of them had spent many happy hours together before Ryokan had turned to Zen and entered the monastery. The young man knew why his uncle had come and braced himself for the scolding he was sure he would receive. But Ryokan said not a word in rebuke, the whole day. The next morning when it was time for him to go, he put on his garments and then said to his nephew: “Will you help me tie the thongs of my sandals? My hands shake and I cannot do it.”

His nephew helped him willingly.

“Thank you,” said Ryokan. “A man becomes older and feebler day by day. You remember how strong and robust I used to be?”

“ I do,” said his nephew, thoughtfully. “ I do indeed remember how you used to be.”

It was the moment of truth for him. He suddenly realized that his mother and all those who had looked after him had become old and that it was now his turn to look after them and to take on the responsibilities of the household and the community.
He gave up his dissolute life forever.

The end has come

A young student of Zen happened to break a precious vase belonging to his teacher. When he heard his teacher's footsteps, he quickly held the broken vase behind him. As the teacher walked up to him, he asked, "Why does one die, master?"

"It's natural," said the teacher. "Everything has a beginning and an end. Everything has just so long to live and then has to die."

The student held out the pieces of the broken vase and said, "The time for your vase to die had come."

The guru and the disciple

A guru and his disciple were once having a discussion. The disciple was telling the guru that he had learnt everything he had to learn in life and there was nothing more that he could possibly learn. The guru just listened calmly and offered to continue the discussion over tea.

Two empty cups promptly arrived with a tea pot and the guru started pouring the tea into the cups.

The guru half filled his own cup. However, he kept pouring the tea into the disciples cup even after it became full and tea was flowing out. The disciple challenged the guru and said he as a learned person should know better than to pour tea beyond the capacity of the cup.

The guru now pointed out that after something becomes full, things do not go in anymore. He then pointed out that the disciple himself would have seen the point had he not shut out his mind from learning by thinking he is full when he is not.