Among many, a single Zen story grabbed my attention. Many years ago, I received a book full of Zen stories entitled, Zen Flesh, Zen Bones. Paul Reps and Nyogen Senzaki compiled this book of stories that were first told in the 13th century by Japanese Zen master Mujū (無住) (“non-dweller”).
At the time, this was all new to me so finding them all in one book was a treat for me. As I mentioned, one story stood out.
Zen Story
Giving the reader or listener pause, a Zen story conveys profound insights about our existence and stimulates new perspectives. They are simple but deeply filled with rich symbolism. As we read they draw us in to the moment we are living in and encourage us to question our path in life.
In particular, Zen story number 84, True Friends, stood out and was, and continues to be my favorite. As most Zen stories go, it is succinct and to the point, but it is powerful beyond all measures.
More about the Zen Story, True Friends
Of the many Zen stories, True Friends is unique among 101 tales. However, I wanted more on the sugject. I researched the “ultimate friendship” or “intimate friendship” in literature, especially among men, but what I found was surprisingly sparse. This seemed very odd to me, as friendships are vital to our existence.
Yes, there is no formal union or vow for a friendship, but having the fortunate but infrequent occasion to connect with someone on a deeper level and create a bond is life-altering. The opposite, unfortunately, is equally profound.
When writing my novel Cutting of Harp Strings, I searched the internet for more information about the Zen story True Friends. There too, I found very little. I wanted to dig deeper and gain as many perspectives as I could both in literary works and other Zen stories but I came up short. If you know of another Zen story about true friendship, let me know in the comments section below.
It was then that I realized that my story, the one I wrote, is the deeper view on friendship I was looking for. Of all places, it came from my pen and keyboard.
Because this Zen story, as far as I can tell is just about unknown, I receive many questions about the title of my novel and its symbolism. I’d like to share this excerpt from the story as I think it answers those questions.
“I would like to tell you a story, Eli. A very special story that an old Buddhist monk told me when I was just a little older than you. Not many know this, but I spent three years in a different sort of monastery.”
“A Buddhist monk? What? That’s awesome Father.” We both smiled, and he continued.
“A long time ago there were two friends, one who played the harp skillfully, and one who listened skillfully. When the one played a song about the mountains, the other would listen and say, ‘I’m on top of that mountain.’ And when the one played a song about the river, the other would say, ‘Here, right before us, is the running river.’
One day the one who listened became ill and died. Out of love, the first friend cut the strings of his harp, and never played again.”
I said nothing. Catching my attention, a squirrel scampered by and scurried up a tree. As my eyes followed him on his climb, the mountains appeared in full view.
Much symbolism may be found in the above eighty-eight words, but I am especially moved reading,
“…Out of love, the first friend cut the strings of his harp, and never played again.”
If you like this post, you may be interested in Following Your Heart
About E.G. Kardos
I am a fiction writer and the author of five books. My writing draws inspiration from the beauty surrounding us all—both in nature and in each other. Spirituality, friendship, love, and our connection to the universe inspire me to write. Here’s more about me and my books.
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