The Buddhist in the Boat

or The Non-Attachment Tango

A holy man was one among many passengers in a crowded boat crossing a wide deep expanse of water. Out in the middle of the passage, at the deepest point, the current became strong and choppy. Water began to splash over the sides of the boat and collect in the bottom of the hull. As the level rose to  their ankles, the passengers began to feel alarmed and, cupping their hands to form scoops, worked to expel most of the water from the boat.

The holy man had joined in, and, when the danger had passed, he said, “It appears that we will stay afloat,” with an unperturbed expression on his face.

Propelled by the strong, coordinated strokes of the oarsmen, the boat continued on its course until another swell, stronger than the last, overtook the craft, which began to wobble, spin, and skew dramatically. Moments later, a formidable wave rose and fell, drenching the boat’s stunned occupants to the bone. Now the water level was well above their knees and rising rapidly. The passengers frantically tried to scoop the water out of the vessel, as before, but this time their efforts were no match for the force of the tide and its powerful current. The boat slowly sank lower in the water. Some of those wearing caps tore them from their heads to serve as buckets; others became increasingly crazed in their attempts to remove the inrushing flood faster than it could pour in. But it seemed their efforts would not suffice.

The holy man sat, immobile, his face wearing the same expression of dispassionate serenity that had graced it earlier, the water now at chest level.

A woman very nearby, in an utter panic, shouted, “Why aren’t you helping us?”

The holy man replied, “It seems that we will sink,” as the swirling water rose to their chins and beyond.