A monk asked the master:“If there is no self,why do you care for posture, breath, and the body?” The master took a simple clay bowl, rinsed it and placed it before the monk. The bowl was empty. The master went to the well, filled it with water and handed it to the monk. “Drink.” After the monk had drunk, the master turned the bowl upside down on the table. The master said: “Precisely because it is empty,it can hold clearly.” The monk asked: “And if it breaks?” The master repl

When Thich Nhat Hanh was still a young novice,one evening he was polishing the temple bell. The rain began — softly at first, then heavier. He listened as the drops fell on the roof, uneven yet harmonious in their rhythm. His hand moved in the same flow, his breath followed the sound. In that moment, everything merged —rain, sound, breath, movement. He no longer perceived any separation between himself and what was happening. There was only doing — and complete presence. Late

It was at the end of a training session,when a little time still remained — just enough for one last question. Master Weizhen looked around the room and spoke calmly: “Students, do you have any questions?But there is only time for one.” For a moment, there was silence. “No one has a question?” asked Weizhen. At last, Reifa raised a hand and said, “Master, I actually have many questions.” Weizhen nodded. “Then simply ask one of them.” Reifa fell silent, thinking…and thinking a