Member-only story
“Waking up one morning, a student of Zen realized he was going to be late to meet his teacher. He quickly got up and rushed out to his teacher’s hut. Upon arriving, he took off his shoes outside and greeted him.
Noticing his shortness of breath, his master asked ‘Which shoe did you put on first this morning?’ Ashamed that he did not know, the student realized he was not ready for his lessons and went home.”
Every time I’m late, I’ve always been working on something. I see the time, throw my shoes on and rush out. Along the way, I walk as quickly as possible, one foot in front of the other, driving myself to minimize the time that I’m tardy. Along the way, I only look forward; after all, that is the direction I’m headed. After I get there, I am slightly late anyway, but a little less — life goes on.
This is how I’ve always walked, and how I imagine others walking. But I want to tell you that this is not the proper way to walk.
If I fast-walk 50% faster than normal walking, then I could cut off a third of my walking time. But in the scale of a 10 minute walk, we can only save three by hurrying — insignificant compared to the amount of minutes in a day. What did that three minutes cost?
In my perpetual rush, I didn’t see the leaves beginning to be tinged with yellows and reds as fall creeps in. I didn’t…
