It is the nature of mind to cling, which explains why, when we are tossed a full chamber pot, we catch it, and hold on to it like it was a treasure. A minute later, here comes another, and, of course, we catch it too. We’re still carrying the first one. We don’t know how to put it down. Now we’ve got two pots, which are twice as heavy as one pot. We stash them in the Garden of Unfinished Business, but the fact is, we carry the entire Garden on our backs.

     Here’s one of my favorite Zen stories: Two monks were walking through a wood on their way to a distant monastery. One was old and grizzled, the other was young and pious. On their way they came across a swiftly running, shallow river. At the river bank they encountered a beautiful, young woman, who said she had to cross the river to get to her grandmother’s house, but was afraid of being swept away. No problem, said the grizzled monk, hop on my back. The maid quickly hopped aboard and the monk trudged across the river and put her down on the other side. The monks continued their journey, and as they went along the young one grew agitated. Finally he spoke in an indignant voice, I respect you as my teacher, he said to his elder, but as monks there are rules we must follow, and one of them is that we should not touch women. The old monk glanced back at the young monk and said, Are you still carrying that woman? I put her down back at the river.