Zen Master Seung Sahn

I've been reading some of the stories and anecdotes about the Zen Master Seung Sahn. He died a few years ago, but his zany wisdom (and that's a compliment) lives on. I've been writing a few off-the-wall things myself lately, and am including two here. The second is based on one of Seung Sahn's teaching stories.

THE AXE HANDLE

Let’s leave the night to itself. The leaves rising on the
wind in wildest speech have settled down beneath
the fallen snow. The new moon reflects itself in the
icicles hanging from the eaves.

The cave inside the body grows. This is the place
where our tenderness can go, our grief, the holiest
gestures we have made. What we are is inside
the cup stained with years of use, and in the hand-
carved axe handle leaning by the door that no
one has touched.


THE BROOM

--for Seung Sahn

A king went to a Zen temple to collect taxes. “There
are men here,” the Master said, “who can fly around
the world on brooms.” The king didn’t believe him,
so he put the broom between his legs and flew
around the room, one, two, three times. “Now
you try it.” The king put the broom between his legs
and jumped. Nothing happened. Two times;
nothing happened. And a third.

The Master said “There are monks in the next room
who could kill you with a single glance” (You could say
the Master was bringing the axe down on the king’s
neck). The king, in his wisdom, left.

It’s good to think that there are places in the world
where men still fly around on brooms, places that
the rich will never understand. Snow builds outside
the temple door, and the wise old voice of the frost.

(Copyright 2007, Allan Cooper)