Zen and the Art of One Little Word

This January, I decided to do the one little word project https://aliedwards.com/projects/one-little-word. “A single word can be a powerful thing. It can be the ripple in the pond that changes everything.”

I’m a poetry major, so this is right up my alley.

I wanted a word to pay attention to—one that would help me see clearer and help me transform into the best version of myself.

My word for 2018 is compassion.

I lost a dear friend, mentor, and kayak partner in 2017- a man whose life was defined by compassion. I often think I’d like to be more like Tim. So that is why I chose compassion for my word.

Today, my word appeared to me in the following story:

There’s a Zen story about a king whose deepest wish was to be remembered as a wise ruler by his people. Given this desire, he kept pondering what made a ruler wise.

What were the key issues wise rulers dealt with? How did wise rulers reach their decisions? How did wise rulers spend their time?

The king decided to present his conundrum to his subjects. He had an announcement made throughout the kingdom that whoever was able to answer this question to the king’s satisfaction would be well rewarded. Many of the king’s subjects responded to the call. One suggested that wise rulers need to set up precise time schedules, consecrating every hour, day, month, and year for certain tasks, and then follow that schedule to the minute.

Another thought that prioritization was the key. Still another insisted that, since no single person could ever hope to have all the knowledge and foresight necessary to make good decisions, wise rulers were those who chose advisors well and heeded their advice.

Another of the king’s subjects suggested that a wise ruler would appoint administrators to handle ongoing activities and use his or her own time improving relationships with the kings in neighboring countries. Someone else suggested that a wise ruler would consult religious leaders, soothsayers, or magicians.

The king was gratified by the outpouring of responses, but he wasn’t satisfied. In his heart of hearts, he didn’t like any of the answers. No reward was given.

As he thought more about his conundrum, the king remembered that he’d once heard of a hermit who lived high in the mountains. This hermit was supposed to be a truly wise and enlightened man. The king wondered if the hermit would be able to tell him what a wise ruler did. It seemed worth a try. The king discovered, however, that seeing the hermit posed a problem. The hermit never left the mountains. Furthermore, he welcomed only the poor, refusing to have anything to do with people of wealth, power, or status.

The king decided to visit him anyway, but in disguise, wearing simple peasant clothes. With some of his attendants he undertook the arduous journey to the mountains. When the king arrived at the foot of the peak where the hermit lived, he ordered his attendants to wait for him. Reaching the hermit’s hut after a long, solitary climb, the king found the hermit busy, tending a small vegetable garden. When the hermit saw the stranger, he nodded his head politely in greeting but didn’t stop working.

The king approached him and said, “I’ve come from afar to ask your help. I’d like to know what it takes to be a wise ruler. What do rulers have to do to become wise? The hermit, continuing to dig, listened attentively but didn’t offer a response. The king noted, given the hermit’s advanced age that gardening didn’t come easily to him. The king repeated his questions, but the hermit only smiled and kept working. Eventually, the king said, “You must be tired. Let me give you a hand.” The hermit still silent, gratefully gave the king his shovel. A few hours passed as the king planted rows of seeds alongside a patch of healthy vegetable plants. When all the seeds were in the ground, he addressed the hermit again, asking what it took to be a wise ruler. Again, the hermit didn’t respond. Instead, giving the king a pail, he pointed to a stream in the distance.

The king took the pail in hand and walked to the stream to get water for the garden. While bending over to fill the pail, the king suddenly felt two hands grabbing him from behind, trying to push him under. Only through an inhuman effort did he manage to free himself and prevent drowning. While disentangling himself, the king successfully threw the attacker in the water. As the attacker was floating away, the king recognized him as one of his retainers. The king was completely taken aback, because he had always thought of this retainer as a truly trustworthy person. He realized now how wrong he had been in his judgment. He wondered if the retainer’s strange deed was an act of revenge: the man had been furious some months earlier when the king hadn’t chosen him to lead his ruling council.

In a state of shock about his very narrow escape, the king returned to the hut of the hermit and told him what had happened. After recounting his near murder, he once more asked the hermit if the old man could give him an answer to his question.

The hermit looked at the king and said, “But your question has already been answered,” “In what way,” the king asked, baffled. The hermit responded, “If you hadn’t taken pity on me in my old age and given me a helping hand in the garden, I’m not sure if I would have made it through the coming winter. By showing compassion for my predicament, you helped me in my most important pursuit: planning for my next harvest. The moral that can be learned from your act of compassion is that where there’s no vision, a ruler’s subjects will perish. You had the foresight to take care of what’s most essential to me to survive the year.”

“Before you arrived, I was at my wit’s end about how to finish my vegetable garden before the winter. I didn’t know whether I would have enough energy to complete the task. By giving me a helping hand and making a truly empathetic gesture, you increased my spirit. You motivated me to keep up my efforts. In addition—and quite ironically—if you hadn’t helped me to get water for the vegetables, your retainer wouldn’t have attacked you and you wouldn’t have known his real motivations. For many years he could have plotted against you, making your life miserable. Thus by helping me, you really helped yourself. When you help others, you create a virtuous cycle.”

The king was silent for some time, reflecting on what the hermit had said. But apparently the hermit wasn’t finished yet. The old man stood a little straighter and motioned for the king to have a seat on a nearby log. Clearing his throat, he spoke as if from a lectern: “From this brief encounter you should take a few lessons with you. As I mentioned, every ruler needs to have foresight about the future. Because we grow great by our dreams, all wise rulers are dreamers. But wise rulers don’t dream alone; they take others with them. They realize that every single life can become great if a person works toward a goal into which that person puts his or her whole heart and soul. Ordinary people believe only in the possible, while extraordinary people—and that includes all wise rulers—visualize not what’s possible or probable, but rather what’s impossible, and then they begin to see it as possible.”

The hermit pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve and wiped his brow. He bent and shook the pail as if hoping there might be a few remaining drops of water to quench his thirst. Then, standing straight again, he continued: “Furthermore, as I mentioned, wise rulers don’t act by themselves. Wise rulers surround themselves with a group of trusted, capable people who support them in making their vision a reality. Knowing that they can attain their dreams only with the help of others, wise rulers select their team carefully, making sure that everyone stands behind them. The last thing a ruler needs is to have is wounded princes sabotage his decisions. With a solid team in place, wise leaders listen attentively to what everyone who works for them has to say, and build on each team member’s strengths.

“Furthermore, wise rulers help their people learn and develop. They encourage their people; they cheer them on. Nothing great was ever achieved without enthusiasm. In fact, enthusiasm is the greatest asset in the world. It beats money, power, and influence. Wise rulers inspire their people to engage in efforts beyond expectations; the motivate for excellence. Foregoing management by guilt, they give each team member constructive feedback. They invite feedback from others in return, which helps to keep their feet firmly planted on the ground. They create an atmosphere of constructive conflict resolution, where no one is afraid to ask questions or give opinions.”

“As you have demonstrated yourself by showing compassion to me, every ruler needs to have empathy. To rule effectively, rulers need not only to have enough self-knowledge to figure out what they’re all about, but they also need to be capable of putting themselves in their subjects’ shoes. A test that wise rulers should submit themselves to on a regular basis is asking themselves whether they’d like to have themselves as king.”

The hermit looked thoughtful and put up first one finger, then another and another and another, as if enumerating points in his head. Then he began again. “Returning to the question of empathy,” he said, “wise rulers have to come across as authentic: they need to show that they care deeply about their people and about the mission they’re undertaking.”

The king sat for a while, considering the hermit’s sage advice, and then thanked his host for sharing his wisdom. He returned home determined to be the wise ruler the hermit had described.

This Zen story appears in Chapter 14 of Manfred Kets de Vries book: The Leader on the Couch, a clinical approach to changing people and organizations. ?2006 Jossey-Bass