If there’s anything irritating you right now, this story will help.
For us it’s flies.
This week in Portugal they seem to have multiplied overnight with the heat.
They’re everywhere and annoying.
Windows can’t be opened so the house feels like a sauna.
But eating outside is impossible as they swarm your food.
Focusing is tricky if one decides to keep you company.
Hamish gets angry at them and keeps leaping all over the place.
Matt is furiously yelling on repeat…
“What is the point of f@ckin flies!!”
So when I came across this Zen parable last week I couldn’t help but smile as it offered an answer.
Have a read and hopefully you can see what irritates you now can totally serve you later.
The Story
Every meditation hall requires a fly.
At a quiet mountain monastery, the monks lived in harmony, except for one.
He was an older monk, strict and sharp-tongued.
He corrected others constantly, scolded novices for minor errors, and rarely smiled.
During morning meditation, he yawned loudly. During meals, he critiqued the rice. No one enjoyed his presence, but he had been given a position of responsibility by the abbot.
Eventually, a group of younger monks approached the Zen master, their heads respectfully bowed.
“Master,” the senior among them said, “why do you allow Elder Jinsoku to remain in the hall? He disturbs our peace, and his words often sting. He brings tension where we seek stillness.”
The master listened silently.
Then he nodded, stood, and led them outside to the meditation hall.
The doors were open, and a warm breeze carried in a single, buzzing fly. It circled lazily through the air, dipping past statues and cushions, landing briefly on a bell.
The master pointed.
“Do you see that fly?” he asked.
The monks nodded, puzzled.
“It does not follow the silence of the hall. It does not bow. It does not sit in zazen. It bothers you. Still… it belongs here.”
The master turned to face them.
“That fly keeps you alert. It reminds you that peace is not something you are given, it is something you cultivate. Anyone can be calm in calmness. But when the fly buzzes by your ear, then we see the real depth of your practice.”
He looked toward the meditation cushions.
“Elder Jinsoku is your fly.”
