“The Two Monks and the Woman: Zen Master’s Wisdom on The Art of Letting Go” | Story Telling English
Once upon a time, in the tranquil landscapes of ancient Japan, there were two monks named Tanzan and Akito. They were close companions, journeying together through the countryside, sharing wisdom and silence in equal measure. The day was drawing to a close, and a heavy rain was falling, turning the path into a muddy trail. As they walked, they came across a crossroads where a beautiful woman in a silk kimono stood.
She was looking anxiously at the large puddle of mud that lay before her. The rain had turned the intersection into a small lake, and she was unable to cross without ruining her delicate clothing. Seeing her dilemma, Tanzan did not hesitate. He stepped forward, offering a bow of respect, may I assist you? He asked. The woman nodded gratefully, and without another word, Tanzan lifted her in his arms and carried her across the muddy road. He placed her gently on the other side, his road now speckled with mud. The woman thanked Tanzan with a bow, her face blooming into a relieved smile, and then she continued on her way. Tanzan and Akito also resumed their journey, the rain pattering softly on the leaves above them. However, Akito was silent, his brow furrowed in deep thought. Monks were not supposed to touch women, let alone carry them in their arms. This was against their code and their discipline. Akito carried this thought with him for hours, the silence between them growing heavy.
It was not until they reached their lodging for the night that Akito finally voiced his concern, why did you carry that woman across the road? Akito asked Tanzan that we monks are not supposed to do things like that. Tanzan looked at Akito, his face calm and serene under the flickering candlelight that I left the woman back at the intersection, he replied simply, are you still carrying her? Akito was left speechless. He sat there, in the dim light, his mind wrestling with Tanzan’s words. Outside, the rain had stopped and the world was hushed, as if holding its breath. This Zen story, though simple, carries a profound teaching. Tanzan represents those who live in the present moment, who know when to hold on and when to let go. He saw a person in need, he helped, and then he moved on. Akito, on the other hand, symbolizes those who cling to rules, regrets, and past events. He held on to the incident, carrying the weight of it long after it had passed. In our fast-paced modern lives, we often find ourselves in Akito’s shoes. We hold on to past mistakes, old crudges, and missed opportunities. We replay past events in our minds, wishing we could change them. But like Tanzan, we need to learn to leave the woman at the intersection. We need to let go of the past and live fully in the present moment. Whether it’s a past relationship, a job that didn’t work out, or a personal mistake, we must learn to leave these burdens behind.
By doing so, we free ourselves to experience the present moment fully, to engage with life as it happens, and to journey forward un-burton. Remember, the past is a place of reference, not a place of residence. Learn from it, let it go, and move forward. As Tanzan teaches us, don’t carry the woman at the intersection, or your past, any longer than necessary. Join us next time for another enlightening tale from the Zen era. Until then, keep letting go and keep moving forward. Remember, every step taken in mindfulness brings us one step closer to peace and understanding. This story, like many Zen teachings, serves as a gentle reminder of the transient nature of our experiences.
It encourages us to embrace the art of letting go, to not let our past define our present, and to carry forward only the lessons we learn, leaving behind the weight of past events. In the grand tapestry of life, every thread, every moment, and every encounter is significant. But it is equally important to know which threads to hold on to, and which to let go. As we navigate through our journeys, may we have the wisdom to know the difference. So, the next time you find yourself holding on to something, remember Tanzan and Aikido. Remember the woman at the intersection. And ask yourself, what am I still carrying?
Thanks For reading this story.