Is That So?

There’s a Zen story about a teenage girl who got pregnant. She was frightened, so when her parents asked her who the father was, she lied and said it was the old Zen monk down the road.

When the baby was born, the angry parents went to the monk’s little cottage and banged on his door. When the monk answered, the father said, “This baby is yours,” and held it out to him.

The monk said, “Is that so?” and took the baby. Over the next few years, the monk raised the child with as much concern and tenderness and love as if it had been his own.

Meanwhile, the teenage girl was overcome by remorse and told her parents the truth, that the father was her boyfriend.

The parents, in righteous indignation, marched back to the monk’s home and pounded on the door again. When the monk appeared, the angry father said, “The child is not yours. We want it back.”

The monk said, “Is that so?” and gave them the child.

Now before you read any further, take a moment to assess your reactions to the story.

Is it about a passive old man who won’t or can’t stand up for his rights? What’s wrong with him? Why did he let the parents get away with it? Didn’t he have a backbone? That can’t be good for the child.

To me, this story is about acceptance and non­judgment. Aren’t we all quick to get upset and angry when our rights have been violated in some way? Don’t we all have boundaries beyond which interlo­pers tread at great peril? We’re pretty clear about what’s right and what’s wrong where we’re involved, and we will howl if we feel wronged. (That explains in part why there are so many lawyers making a good living.)

One of the major ways we can relieve our stress is to back off from some of the endless judgments we make of others. The most challenging to give up are the judgments we make when we’ve been wronged.

Still, you may be thinking, that story is beyond the fringe; it’s so far out as to be silly, stupid. Nobody would or could be that unattached to things. No one would want to be.

Maybe not. Certainly I don’t know anyone capable of being that unattached, including me. Especially me.

So what’s the point?

I think the story holds out an ideal, an image of perfection that we will never attain in this life but that we might aspire to. Whatever else you may think of the monk, he’s not stressed. He lives in serenity. Nothing bothers him, not even an assault like the one described. That’s worth aspiring to.

Think back on your reactions. Did you get angry with the monk? Did you quickly dismiss him as foolish or stupid or worse?

So the next time some jerk cuts you off on the highway, instead of yelling I/#@%&**#@!!,” think “Is that so?”