CRUX OF LIFE

A young scholar once travelled across the land to meet a revered Zen master. He had studied scriptures, philosophies, sciences, and poetry. His shelves were lined with books; his head, with knowledge. “I’ve read almost everything,” he told the master, “but I seek deeper wisdom. Teach me.” The master nodded and invited him for tea. As the scholar spoke — about his views, his interpretations, his brilliance — the master began to pour tea into his cup. He poured. And poured. And kept pouring, even after the cup overflowed. “Stop!” the scholar exclaimed. “It’s spilling over! Can’t you see the cup is full?” The master gently placed the kettle down and looked at him. “Exactly,” he said. “How can I teach you anything unless you first empty your cup?” I’m reminded of this story often — especially when I catch myself, or others, believing we’ve seen enough, learned enough, suffered enough. That we somehow know more than others. That’s when I remind myself: it’s time to empty the cup...