Helping others;helping yourself: same same

Two monks, one young and the other old, were crossing a stream. A beautiful woman was also standing on the bank. Lines of worry on her beautiful face. Her mind calculating the risk. The steam appeared daunting to her elegant, feminine self.

The old monk looked at her. He understood that she needed help to cross the stream. His training to be kind brought the idea of helping her in his mind. But the mere thought of touching a woman shook him up. He got goose-bumps. His rules of celibacy forbade him from touching a woman. So chanting mantras to clear his mind he moved onto cross the stream.

Reaching the other end he was horrified to see the spectacle behind him. The young monk was crossing the stream. The woman was sitting on his shoulders. The older monk was gripped by scores of emotions. He felt jealous of the younger monk. For taking the initiative basically. Of becoming someone he always wanting to but denied himself from being. He then forced his jealousy into anger for breaking the code of monastic conduct. He was seething with helpless anger. The thought of touching a beautiful woman was gnawing at his heart. He was again denying some basic instinct like he had throughout his life.

The younger monk helped the woman down. She thanked and smiled. He bowed and followed his religiosity to the extent of keeping a straight face and moved away peacefully. They monks moved towards their hermitage.

They had been walking for hours. It was evening when they neared their place of penance. The check-dam of old man’s thoughts broke. Finally he burst out.

“You touched a woman. You have broken the code of conduct. I will complain against you once we reach,” he was still wondering whether he was jealous of the young monk or was it plain anger over the rules book.

The young monk smiled. He put a comforting hand on the old man’s shoulder.

“I left her on the river bank itself after helping her. You are still carrying her in your mind,” he said politely.

The older monk was ashamed. He tried to put her out of mind as they walked. The younger monk meanwhile walked with a rested mind, appreciating the marvels of nature in the forest.

The message is clear. The things that ought to simply be done, should just be done. Otherwise their shadows linger in the mind. They grow heavier with the passage of time. This invisible weight is heavier than the stones we see around. Simple, harmless acts of appreciation, of enjoyment, of helping somebody cross a stream are better done and closed with a full stop. It’s better for a healthy mind.

A missed chance of being good will definitely cast a shadow on your mind. A forced or even missed chance to be bad, on the other hand, will hardly leave an imprint on your conscience for later reflections. Only goodness has a legacy and a future. Badness is just a bad example and repentance sometime. To do good is instinctive for a human being, another matter that we stifle the urge most of the time. To do bad, on the other hand, is not instinctive. It is wrongly reflective, a miscalculation, a tragic bypass of the instinct of goodness.