The spiritual journey is hard enough on its own, so along with the baggage we’re leaving behind, there’s another thing we can do (or not do) that lightens the load. The tools are there to help, but we don’t need to push the whole four shelf, seventeen drawer tool cabinet everywhere we go. The journey is as much unlearning as learning. And what brought you to here may become an obstacle to learning something new.

This first passage is from a Zen parable:

Nan-in, a Japanese master during the Meiji era, received a university professor who came to inquire about Zen.

Nan-in served tea. He poured his visitor’s cup full, and then kept on pouring.

The professor watched the [cup] overflow until he no longer could restrain himself. “It is overfull. No more will go in!”

“Like this cup,” Nan-in said, “you are full of your own opinions and speculations. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?”

Another Buddhist parable explains the point this way:

The Buddha said, “A man walking along a highroad sees a great river, its near bank dangerous and frightening, its far bank safe. He collect sticks and foliage, makes a raft, paddles across the river, and reaches the other shore. Now suppose that, after he reaches the other shore, he takes the raft and puts it on his head and walks with it on his head wherever he goes. Would he be using the raft in an appropriate way? No; a reasonable man will realize that the raft has been very useful to him in crossing the river and arriving safely on the other shore, but that once he has arrived, it is proper to leave the raft behind and walk on without it. This is using the raft appropriately.

“In the same way, all truths should be used to cross over; they should not be held onto once you have arrived. You should let go of even the most profound insight or the most wholesome teaching; all the more so, unwholesome teachings.”

Integrate, my friend, and enjoy the new wine. (Matthew 9:17, Mark 2:22, Luke 5:37-39, and Thomas 47.)