24
Oct
A Zen Master named Hakuin had returned to his village after a long journey. His students wanted to know how the journey went. But Hakuim did not remember the journey.
“My pupils, I regret that I cannot tell you how I travelled, because I do not remember,” said the Master.
“Master, it must be the same as whenever you travel; you are greeted by warm welcomes and gracious respect, befitting a man of such wisdom,” said the first student.
“Perhaps it was so,” said Hakuin.
The second student chimed in, “Master, maybe you travelled unassumingly as a tramp pretending to be a fool of no importance, to better observe the world.”
“Perhaps it was so,” said Hakuin.
“Master, do you not remember? I travelled with you,” said the third student. “Also, I videotaped your reception at the village of Edo.”
“Ah,” said Hakuin. “Graciously play the videotape, my pupil.”
The student played the tape. It showed Hakuim speaking to many men.
“Master, I was mistaken,” said the second student. “I see that they listen to you with respect and attention; you did not travel disguised as a fool.”
“No Master, I was mistaken,” said the first student. “These men are transfixed with surprise, they watch and listen to you because you travel as a fool, and they are astonished to see a fool speak so confidently.”
“Perhaps it was so,” said Hakuin. “But then, am I teacher or fool?”