NUMBER 18
One day Senior Monk decided to travel to the Order’s
mountain refuge. Once there he
established himself, made a fire in the wood cookstove, put away his supplies
and considered his day. It was already late in the afternoon as the refuge was
some ninety miles from the city.
The refuge was a large cabin built by himself and his
teacher. It was split log, had a loft,
wood cookstove, pot-bellied stove, propane refrigerator and two bathrooms. The refuge was off the grid, had no
electricity, and was 13 miles deep into the forest. Senior monk practiced there
as often as he could.
After a short repast of bread and cheese, he decided to
hike to a stream a mile our so away. As
he walked, he kept thinking about the stream he was walking to. It was a fast moving stream, and at one point
divided into two.
“Now there’s the question, ‘Are they the same or
different?’
After some tough climbing he finally arrived at the fork
in the stream. There, he placed his
cushion, took up his robes, and sat down. The birds were quiet, as it was late
in the day, but he could hear the buzzing of insects and felt the still hot sun
on his face. Putting his palms together, a slight bow, then hands in the cosmic
mudra, left hand cradled in right, he began to meditate.
“Are they the same or different? “he asked himself.
The divided streams were moving quite quickly across the
rocky beds and the moving water offered a beautiful sound to Senior’s ears.
Listening to the sounds of the streams, his mind opened and he had the distinct
experience of following both streams simultaneously as they flowed down the
mountain side.
He saw them subdivide again and again and in each case
his mind was able to see and follow each as they, too, flowed downhill. Just
then a fly landed on his nose and just then he saw all the streams flow into a
lake.
The question, he realized, was meaningless.