The Zen Master and the Genie by Rick Sherman

The zen master sat on his tatami mat in the spare, spacious chamber of the temple. His eyes were half closed as he sat, deep in zazen, at one with everything. He became aware that he was at one with the universe and then realized that that awareness was a concept and that was an illusion. He took a took a deep breath, breathing in the universe. Then he exhaled. And thus he was at oneness again.

After a time he became aware of a monk sitting before him on the floor of the temple. The monk held what looked like an ornate brass lamp, possibly of Middle Eastern origin. The two of them, master and student sat like that, in crystalline, empty silence for a period of time. There were no clocks in the monastery and time was not something that the denizens there measured their lives in. Still, after an interval the master opened his eyes and addressed the monk.

“You have brought me this lamp. You believe it has some importance.”

“Yes, master.”

“All physical things, all things at all, anything shaped by the hand of man, have no real importance. They are as fleeting as the breath I use to speak these words. All things pass into nothingness. In time. And what is time anyway?”

The monk sat in silence, contemplating his master’s wisdom.

“I don’t think this lamp was shaped by the hand of a man, master.”

“Explain.”

“A supplicant showed up earlier at the gates of the temple, seeking admittance to our order. When I asked him what he offered, he gave me this lamp. I took it from him, leaving him with no other possessions. I asked him what else he had to offer and he stood there silently and finally held out his hand to me.”

“What was in it?”

“Nothing.”

The master nodded. “Did you offer him admittance?”

“Of course.”

The master seemed satisfied by this series of events.

“This lamp,” said the Master softly, “what is the source of its significance.”

“The man said this lamp was crafted by ancient seers, beings of luminous vibration. By hands not of human origin. He told me this lamp had granted him his heart’s desire and finding that did not fulfill him he came here.”

“His heart’s desire? Curious. You may leave the lamp with me.”

The monk set the lamp at the feet of his master and with a bow, left the chamber.

The zen master sat and regarded the lamp. He allowed his mind to travel back to his childhood before he himself came to the walls of this temple. And he remembered. He remembered stories from far off lands. Stories of magical lamps and the beings that dwelled within them. With a breath he brought himself back to the present. The lamp was made of a metal that looked like brass and was slightly tarnished by streaks of what appeared to be soot. Reaching out he picked it up and he took a corner of his robe and wiped the black tarnish off the lamp.

The lamp immediately began to vibrate like a tea kettle and got quite warm, though not painfully hot. Calmly, the zen master placed it on the clean white floor of his chamber. The lamp tittered and capered on the ground shaking itself and clanking around. And then colorful, perfumed smoke rose out of the spout  First green, then orange and a vibrant magenta, all forming a cloud before the zen master who sat, calmly watching. From somewhere that was nowhere, a breeze came and dispelled the smoke, revealing a figure standing there.

He was a tall man, at least seven feet. He was arranged in a colorful raiment of colors so vibrant they clashed with the plainness of the master’s chamber. His skin was olive colored and his baggy pants seemed to incorporate every color of the spectrum. Likewise his vest and slippers which curled up at the toes to make little spirals. On his head he wore a turban of deepest indigo and a hoop dangled from his left ear. He folded his arms before his chest and spoke.

“Master I am at your service. In return for liberating me I will grant you any three wishes you desire.”

“Anything I desire?”

“Anything.”

The master sat in silent contemplation while the genie waited. He waited a long time, fidgeting, as genies are not known for their patience.

“Well, Master get on with it. I don’t have forever. Actually, now that I think about it, I do. But all this standing around is starting to grate on me.”

“Stillness.”

“‘Stillness’? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you had it, then your waiting would no longer be waiting. It would be being.”

“Gah!” said the genie shaking his head, “your wishes, let’s get on with this already. What do you desire?”

“Nothing.”

“What do you mean ‘nothing’? Everybody wants something.”

“Desire is the source of all suffering. I have spent many years overcoming it and now I am at peace.”

The genie frowned at the zen master and said under his breath, “No desires, that’s a new one.” And then he sat on the floor in front of the master.”

“Well,” said the genie, not one to having his duties refused, “wish for something for someone else.”

The master sat in silence while the genie twiddled his thumbs.

Finally the man spoke.

“I wish an end to all of the warfare on this planet.”

The genie smiled and nodded his head and blinked.

“Done!” said the genie.

“That’s it?” asked the zen master somewhat skeptically.

“Yes, come out with me.” And the genie led him outside and pointed into the sky. The master saw a rocket heading up into the sky.

“I don’t understand.”

“This monastery is near a silo,” explained the genie, “all of the world’s nuclear missiles have been launched. No more war. Not after this. Just like you asked for.”

The master breathed in and then out. And again. Finally he said, “I would like my second wish.”

“Shoot,” the genie said.

“I wish to cancel out my first wish. I want no missiles launched.”

The genie smiled a big, thick lipped smile and snapped his fingers.

“Done!”

Up in the sky there was no sign of missiles, but still he would have to take the genie at his word.

They returned to the chamber and the master sat back on his tatami and settled himself.

“One more wish, Master, and then I’m out of here.”

The master sat there in silence while the the genie twitched and scratched his belly.

“I have my final wish.”

The genie snapped to attention. “Yes? Yes? Anything?”

“I wish for all of humanity to become spiritually enlightened.”

The genie just stood there twirling his thumbs and biting his lip.

“Is there a problem?”

“It’s just, I don’t know what that means. Spiritually enlightened? Can you explain what that means?”

“I’m sorry but I cannot.”

“I’m bound to grant your wish. But how can I do it if you can’t explain it?”

“I can’t tell you what it is, but I can help you find it. If you are willing.”

“I have no choice,” the genie said through a frown.

“I will show you.”

And then the genie traded in his rainbow assortment of garments for a plain robe and was assigned a bed in the monastery. Every morning he woke at dawn for meditation. Then he was given a broom and was told to sweep up the courtyard. He did as he was told, the whole time wondering what the point was. He was given a simple lunch and even though he didn’t need food to survive he ate it anyway. After the meal, the monks gathered in the master’s chambers where the master spoke simply about simple things. This was followed by more meditation. The genie was bored but he was bound by his code to understand this enlightenment thing so that he could grant the wish and get on with his life.

The days passed and eventually the genie settled into his routine. It was a very simple, basic kind of existence and after a while the genie began to find it more and more agreeable and he complained less and less. Finally during one day’s meditation he discovered something wonderful. But it was nothing that he could express in words. He ate, he slept, he worked on mundane tasks and attended the master’s talks and eventually his mind grew quiet and his simple work became as deep and as meaningful as anything he had done in his life. No. Deeper, more meaningful.

And thus, years passed.

One day the master called the genie into his chamber.

The genie sat before him on folded legs. The master did not speak and together they sat in silence for a time that went unmeasured.

“I believe,” said the master, “that you have reached a place where you are able to grant my wish.”

“But…I still don’t know what enlightenment is.”

“Your saying that only proves my point. The simplicity you have attained, I want you to share it with the world. And then you are free to go.”

The genie breathed in and then out. And he sat.

Finally, he spoke.

“Master, for the first time in my ten thousand years of life I am at peace with myself and I got here with your guidance.”

“I merely pointed at the moon. You are the one who found it.”

“That’s my point. It was in the finding…to just start here would be…incomplete. Whatever enlightenment may be, it must be a path and not a final destination.”

“So you cannot grant my wish?”

“Each being must find enlightenment on its own.”

And the two of them sat together in that vast, silent hall.

“Then I release you. My final wish is for you to be a free being, unbeholden to any man.”

The genie took this in.

“After all this time, you are granting me my freedom?”

“No. You were already free. Where will you go now?”

He cleared his mind before answering.

“If it is alright with you, I’d like to stay here.”

And the zen master smiled a little smile and nodded his head.

Later, as he swept small pebbles off of a pathway the genie smiled to himself. And he breathed in. And then out again.

Rick Sherman

Image: Google Images – Brass and black oil lantern with ornate patterns