"Rainmaker of Kiau-Tchou" from The Nature Writings of C. G. Jung
There was a great drought where the missionary Richard Wilhelm lived in China. There had not been a drop of rain and the situation became catastrophic. The Catholics made processions, the Protestants made prayers, and the Chinese burned joss sticks and shot off guns to frighten away the demons of the drought, but with no result.
"Half-Enlightened Masters" (from Hua Hu Ching - Reading 80) by Brian Browne Walker
The world is full of
half-enlightened masters.
Overly clever,
too "sensitive" to live in the real world,
they surround themselves with selfish pleasures
and bestow their grandiose teachings
upon the unwary.
“The End of Suffering” by Thich Nhat Hanh
May the sound of this bell penetrate deep into the cosmos.
Even in the darkest spots living beings are able to hear it clearly
so that all suffering in them cease, understanding comes to their heart
and they transcend the path of sorrow and death.
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"The Formula" by Anthony de Mello
The mystic was back from the desert.
"Tell us," they said, "what God is like.”
But how could he ever tell them
what he had experienced in his heart?
Can God be put into words?
"Vanity" — Unknown
There was a Zen monk whose vanity was his poverty and humility. He lived in a cave outside his monastery, ate only food he could glean from what others threw away, and washed his robes only by walking in the rain. Once every week he would leave his cave and enter the monastery. There he would choose a young monk to walk with him that day so that he might give the younger man the benefit of is wisdom, which he was sure was both vast and deep. He delighted in tormenting the young students, and then lecturing the abbot about the poor quality of his teachings. One day while walking, the young man which he had chosen stopped to squat down and crap. When he finished, he looked up to the old monk and said, "Sensei, may I have a leaf to wipe my ass?'
"Haiku: Eastern Culture" - Translations and commentary by Reginald H. Blyth
A haiku is not a poem, it is not literature;
it is a hand becoming,
a door half-opened,
a mirror wiped clean.
It is a way of returning to nature,
to our moon nature,
our cherry blossom nature,
our falling leaf nature,
in short, to our Buddha nature.
"The Superlative Horse" retold by Deng Ming Tao
Duke Mu of Qin said to Bo Le, his best judge of horses: “You are growing old. Could I ask your sons to find horses for me in your place?”
Bo Le replied: “Anyone can find an excellent horse by looking at its build, its color, its muscles, and its bone structure. But only a rare few can find a superlative horse that raises no dust and leaves no tracks. Although my sons have the talent to find excellent horses, they cannot see a superlative horse. However, I do have a friend named Gao who is a firewood and vegetable hawker. His ability to choose horses is as good as mine. Please talk to him.”
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"WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?" by Anthony de Mello
The master imprints his wisdom in the heart of his disciples, not in the pages of a book. The disciple might carry this wisdom for thirty or forty years, hidden in his heart, until he meets someone ready to receive it. Such was the tradition of Zen.
Zen Poem — Ikkyu
Every day priests minutely examine the Dharma (universal law)
and endlessly chant complicated sutras.
Before doing that, though,
they should learn how to read the love letters
sent by the wind and rain,
the snow and moon.
“The Hero Path" by Joseph Campbell
We have not even to risk the adventure alone
for the heroes of all time have gone before us.
The labyrinth is thoroughly known ...
we have only to follow the thread of the hero path.
And where we had thought to find an abomination
we shall find a God.