The Parable of the Log and the River’s Current
Good morning, Teacher. Please, as always, share something with us to guide our practice.
With your guidance, our path of practice will surely move forward without obstruction.
At that moment, the Buddha was quietly watching the flow of the river.
Then, perhaps broken from a great tree somewhere upstream, a large log came drifting into view — moving with the current from upstream to downstream.
That log — it does not cling to this bank, nor to the far bank.
It does not sink to the riverbed.
It does not snag on sandbars or rocks.
It is not swallowed by an eddy.
It is not seized by people or animals.
And it does not rot.
Following the flow of the water, will it not eventually reach the great ocean…?
Yes, I believe it will.
We, as monks, are perhaps much the same as that log.
I see. The path of our practice is like the current of that river.
Not struggling against the flow, not stagnating, simply moving forward with the current… I understand.
Thank you for this teaching.
Nanda the Cowherd Asks to Be a Disciple
Someone happened to overhear this exchange between the Buddha and his disciples. His name was Nanda.
Holding the kind of staff that cowherds carry, he was in the middle of grazing cattle entrusted to him by his employer.
Excuse me…
Oh — hello. Can I help you?
I was passing nearby and caught some of what was just said. I couldn’t help but take notice…
You mean the part about “not struggling against the flow, not stagnating, simply moving forward with the current”?
Yes. That’s it. Actually, I was listening from the very beginning.
What Nanda Understood by “Not Being Caught”
I myself find deep satisfaction in the life of grazing cattle.
The way I live — it seems to me exactly like: not clinging to this bank, not to the far bank, not sinking to the riverbed, not snagging on sandbars or rocks, not swallowed by an eddy, not seized by people or animals, not rotting — just moving with the flow.
If I were to become a disciple of the Buddha, would I be able to go even further into that practice of not being caught by anything?
Do you mean you wish to become a disciple?
That’s exactly what I mean. Please, accept me right now.
Nanda. What do you intend to do with those cattle? Will you not return them to the one who entrusted them to you?
These animals can find their own way home. There’s no need for me to take them back personally.
Besides, that’s not what I’m asking. What I want to know is whether you’ll give me permission to become a disciple and learn the Way.
Even if the cattle can find their way home on their own — you are presently living in the care of the one who employs you, are you not?
Well… yes, I suppose so.
Then first go back, and properly report to the one who owns those cattle.
Can’t I become a disciple right now?
First, return the cattle.
Understood. I will go back for now.
The Disciples’ Questions
Teacher. That man Nanda said he wanted to become a disciple. Why did you send him home?
That’s right. Weren’t you the one who spoke of flowing like water — of not being caught by anything?
He was moved by those words — your words — and came forward to ask for discipleship, didn’t he?
If, after returning home, he decides that he would rather go on being a cowherd — then the time was simply not right. But if, even after returning the cattle to their owner, he still wants to learn the Way — he will come back.
But… you said “a monk is like the flow of the river” — and then you gave Nanda that response. Doesn’t that seem like a contradiction?
Does it?
It does. Doesn’t it contradict “not being caught, flowing like water”?
Does it?
…
…Then the problem was in how we understood it?
Perhaps so. (smiling)
Nanda Returns
Teacher — I’ve returned the cattle! Please, I ask once more. Will you allow me to become your disciple?
You have properly returned the cattle to their owner.
Very well. I grant your request.
Thank you, deeply. I look forward to learning from you.
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