There were two Zen temples in the same city, not far from each other. Every morning, each temple would send a novice monk to the market to buy vegetables. Whenever the two novices ran into each other at the market, they could not avoid exchanging a few polite words. One day, the two novices met again at the market. One novice casually asked, 'Senior brother, where are you going?'
'Wherever the wind blows, that's where I go.'
The asking novice did not expect such an answer and was momentarily at a loss for words. He recalled how his master trained them in Zen questioning every day, yet now, when it mattered, he could not respond. So he went back and told his master what had happened. His master scolded him, saying, 'Fool, if he replies like that again, just ask him, If there is no wind, where will you go?'
The next day, the novice waited at the market. Sure enough, he ran into that same novice again and hurriedly asked, 'Senior brother, where are you going?'
'Wherever my legs take me, that's where I will go.'
Upon hearing this, the asking novice was again stumped and had no choice but to return to tell his master. The master, dissatisfied, said, 'You fool, why didn't you ask, ‘‘If your legs won't move, where will you go?'''
The novice memorized his master's words carefully and even prepared similar responses in advance. On the third day, the two met at the market again, and the novice, confident this time, asked, 'Senior brother, where are you going?'
'I'm going to the market to buy vegetables.'
This blew away all the prepared replies he had ready, choking back every word he had meant to say.
To understand the essence of Zen is to let go of attachment; to speak in a Zen manner, one must not cling to fixed ideas. The wonderful thing about Zen language lies in its spontaneity—whatever is spoken can have charm and insight without cunning, naturally humorous. It is like a spring of sweet water that flows naturally from the Zen mind.
