Hi Peter,

thank you for your comments and contemplation about the Zen story: yes, I also feel there is a deeper message there.

The traveling monk assumed positive things about the disciple and interpreted his reactions as a sign of wisdom. He interpreted even a clenched fist as a symbol of oneness. Whereas the disciple interpreted the monk’s benevolent reactions as offense, and got angry with him.

The traveler was humbled by what he experienced as a profound insight. The disciple was inflamed by what he believed was mockery. Two egos, two illusions, one puffed up, one wounded.

Yes, perhaps we can say that the traveling monk was more open to self-reflection and used the interaction to see his own (real or perceived) limitations.

Whereas the disciple was quick to make assumptions – unfavorable assumptions – about the monk, feeling attacked and reacting with anger. He didn’t stop to self-reflect, but blamed the monk for his internal discomfort, even if the monk had no bad intention towards him.

So I see it as one party willing to self-reflect, the other not. And perhaps there is another lesson beyond that, which I believe you’re hinting at: that the monk has low self-esteem (you said: wounded). And that because of that, he saw only himself as the faulty one, the ignorant one, while not recognizing the unbalanced behavior (anger) of the disciple. So perhaps having a somewhat skewed perspective, judging himself too harshly, while overlooking the other person’s bad behavior.

Okay, perhaps I’m reading too much into it 🙂 But in any case, I find it a deep and multifaceted story (and funny too! 😊).

Thank you Thomas for sharing it, and Peter for further expanding on it! 🙏

Hi Thomas,

Sorry, for me, everything is a learning experience.

Good attitude, Thomas! We can indeed learn from everything, even the most painful experiences (although it doesn’t mean that those lessons are easy and that we aren’t suffering a great deal…).

I’ve heard of a good way to reframe our difficult experiences: instead of asking “why is this happening to me?”, to ask “why is this happening for me?”

This helps us not to stay stuck in the victim mentality, but to try to draw a lesson from it, perhaps learn something about ourselves and our own limitations, and eventually become a better (or rather, more whole, more healed) person as a result.

I am so glad you enjoyed the story.
I hope you share it with others and it brings a smile or two.

Yes, I will, it’s a good one! 👍 Thank you, Thomas!

What an interesting story, Thomas.

So, the monk wanted to have a secret 1-to-1 meeting with the attractive nun (because an open meeting would have gotten him expelled from the group), professing his great love for her, and next, she confronted him in front of the group: ““If you really love me so much, come and embrace me now.”

Did the story end there or does it say how the monk reacted or whether he was expelled?

Anita

Hi Thomas:

Very good point. Must have been desire, not love. If he loved her, he wouldn’t want to get her in trouble, not within herself (feeling conflicted, ashamed or guilty for being a nun having an affair with a monk), or without, if the affair was found out.

What a clever saying, “I believe that nothing good grows in the dark except for mushrooms??” I looked it up, thinking it might be a known or famous saying.. but no, it’s a Thomas Original, I am impressed!

🍄✨ Anita

Beautiful writing, Peter.

A ripple in the stillness- music 🎶 to my ears.

Quiet souls- this afternoon, I am a quiet soul.

For they ask nothing of the dark, and grow straight toward whatever sun the day is willing to give- this afternoon I let go of repulsion for the dark (such as loneliness), and attraction for the light (such as the longing to be around people right now), and I just flow with what is.

🥒✨️ Anita

Hi Thomas,
Thanks for posting these Zen stories. One of the things I enjoy about them is how many different layers they offer depending on how you look.

One way I like to approach a Zen story is the same way I’d look at a dream, where every figure is an aspect of myself. So in this one, I’m the monk hiding desire, the nun exposing it, and the class watching. When I played with the story, I added a gardener quietly observing the whole inner drama. (observer is the observed) That’s why my version leans more toward illumination than rule‑breaking. The “shadows chased by dawn” was my way of pointing to that moment when something hidden becomes seen, and illusion loses its power.

For me, Zen stories often point toward that shift from concealment to clarity. Not in a moral sense, but in the simple way that seeing dissolves confusion.

I appreciate the exchange. It’s interesting how the same story keeps shifting depending on where we stand.

* the nun’s approach

Hi Everyone

I am straightforward as ever. If love is not open? Is it really love? 🩵

Thank you all for sharing your thoughts! 🙏 🩵