The ancients had the same problems with time that we have. They said, "Days pass like a shuttle in a loom." First one way, then the other way. Back and forth, side to side. Sometimes they said, "Days pass like arrows overhead." We stand there and watch them fly by, wondering where they're all going.

In a Chan teaching session, the instruction period passes quickly. Like time, ideas and opinions go this way and that. On which side will the thread end? Arrows of insight fly overhead. Will any strike its target? We won't know until the great reckoning at the end of the teaching session.

In Chan, as in most things in life, we're never sure we understand something we've just been taught until we've been tested. Teachers call this testing, "Paying the check." On the last day of the teaching session, all of the students are assembled and the teacher randomly calls on this person, then that person, on and on, asking all sorts of pointed questions. That's what we call presenting a student with the check. He has to get up in front of the entire class and submit to the interrogation. "How much did you learn? Pay up!" Teachers get paid with good answers.

Of course, in any session, if even one person manages to attain Enlightenment, he pays the check for everybody. All share the joy when someone succeeds in attaining Truth.

So what did you learn from these lessons? Maybe you paid the check for everybody and attained Enlightenment. Maybe you're not sure and need a little time to think about it, to mull these Chan ideas over in your mind, to let the thoughts settle a bit before you see what you've got. Take all the time you need - just don't cease the mulling process. Keep Chan in your mind. Redefine your priorities. Cultivate patience.

One summer day the Buddha decided to take a long walk. He strolled down the road alone, just enjoying the earth's beauty. Then, at a crossroad, he came upon a man who was praying.

The man, recognizing the Tathagata, knelt before him and cried, "Lord, life is indeed bitter and painful! I was once happy and prosperous, but through trickery and deceit those I loved took everything from me. I am rejected and scorned. Tell me, Lord," he asked, "how many times must I be reborn into such wretched existence before I finally know the bliss of Nirvana?"

The Buddha looked around and saw a mango tree. "Do you see that tree?" he asked. The man nodded. Then the Buddha said, "Before you know freedom from sorrow you must be reborn as many times as there are mangoes on that tree."

Now, the mango tree was in full fruit and dozens of mangoes hung from it. The man gasped. "But Lord," he protested, "I have kept your Precepts! I have lived righteously! Why must I be condemned to suffer so much longer?"

The Buddha sighed. "Because that is how it must be." And he continued his walk.

He came to another crossroad and found another man praying; and this man, too, knelt before him. "Lord, life is indeed bitter and painful," the man said. "I have known such anguish. As a boy, I lost my parents; as a man, I lost my wife and pretty children. How many times must I be reborn into such wretched existence before I come finally to know the refuge of your love?"

The Buddha looked around and saw a field of wild flowers. "Do you see that field of wild flowers?" he asked. The man nodded. Then the Buddha said, "Before you know freedom from sorrow, you must be reborn as many times as there are blossoms in that field."

Seeing so many hundreds of flowers, the man cried, "But Lord! I have been a good person. I have always been honest and fair, never harming anyone! Why must I be made to endure so much more suffering?"

The Buddha sighed. "Because that is how it must be," and he continued on his way.

At the next crossroad, he met yet another man who knelt before him in supplication. "Lord, life is indeed bitter and painful!" the man said. "Days toiling under the burning sun, nights lying on the cold, wet earth. So much hunger and thirst and loneliness! How many more times must I be reborn into such wretched existence before I may walk with you in Paradise?"

The Buddha looked around and saw a tamarind tree. Now, each branch of the tamarind has many stems and each stem has dozens of little leaves. "Do you see that tamarind tree?" the Buddha asked. The man nodded. Then the Buddha said, "Before you know freedom from sorrow you must be reborn as many times as there are leaves on that tamarind tree."

The man looked at the tamarind and its thousands of leaves, and his eyes filled with tears of gratitude. "How merciful is my Lord!" he said, and he pressed his forehead to the ground before the Buddha's feet.

And the Buddha said, "Arise, my good friend. Come with me now."

And to this day the tamarind's seeds are the symbol of faithfulness and forbearance.

We cannot enter into contracts with the universe. We cannot say, "I obeyed the rules and therefore I'm entitled to receive benefits." or "I've put up with more than my share of hard luck. I'm due some good luck, now." The universe doesn't recognize our petty claims for justice. There are heroes who laid down their lives for the benefit of others. They have no voice to complain. Yet we know that because they were selfless, they walk in Paradise.

And isn't this the way to happiness? Isn't this how we enter Nirvana? By losing our individual egos and gaining the universal Buddha Self? Paradise comes when we surrender ourselves to it.

So when you are asked, "How much did you learn?" even if you can't come up with specific answers, you'll pay your check if you just say, "However long it takes, I'll stick with Chan. I'll keep trying to rid myself of selfishness and to never forget to keep my forehead pressed to the ground before the Buddha's feet."

Humility and patience are golden coins. And here's a tip: Try to find a Buddha in every man you meet and you may pay the check for thousands.

When it comes to love, be a big spender!

  Chapter 13, page 1 of 1