Once… long ago in China, lived a zen master with a great sense of humour, humility, compassion and grace…
One day he walked pass one of his young disciples teaching Dhamma to a group of children, and was surprised as he over heard the strange words coming from the young monk…
“Body is non-self… it does not exist.
The same is with feelings… Feelings are non-self… they do not exist.
And so is memory. Memories are non-self… they don’t exist either
And now thoughts. Thoughts are non….”
The great master of compassion gently walked up behind the talking disciple and made a silent hand signal “shhhh…” to the group of listening children as he removed a hot-water bag from his belt, unscrew off the lid and poured the boiling liquid down the disciple’s left shoulder.
Shocked! “YAAARRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!” the disciple screamed in excruciating pain as his body became frozen twisted. In split seconds, his right arm swung in a round houses and his left arm performed its jerking cartwheeling actions. He quickly launched out of his wooden chair and turned his head back to face his the man who had now scarred him for life. “What the bloody he…! Ahhhhhhhh!” his angry shout changed into a new state of shock when he realised that his shoulder burner was his own master. Confused, as well as being in too many states of shock at once… not knowing any other words apart from “Master…. mast…. I i i ….”
The master of great compassion looked at the young man, smiled gently and extended his graceful words of wisdom.
“When one’s own wisdom stinks like shit… don’t go chucking it at others…”