Chop that wood
Carry water
What’s the sound of one hand clapping
Enlightenment, don’t know what it is.
—Van Morrison
Fifteen years ago, while taking a break during a business trip in Japan, my colleague and I were sitting in the rock garden of Ryoanji, a Rinzai Zen temple in Kyoto. Created in the 15th century, Ryoanji boasts one of the world’s most famous Zen gardens. Its 15 stones are positioned so that two or three are always hidden from view, and therein lies a lesson: No one is ever able to see everything all at once. There is always more than meets the eye.
Hirooka-san, our guide and a self-described Buddhist, explained this to us and then turned to me and asked, "So … are you enlightened?"
I paused, wondering if I had just been gently maneuvered into a Zen koan — a trick question. "I understand now why this garden is so special," I offered.
Hirooka-san shook her head. "No!" she scolded. "You can’t understand. Understanding is not the goal. Enlightenment is. You can only be enlightened. So … are you enlightened?"
I pondered for a minute and then said, a little sheepishly, that I was. In truth, I felt more humble than enlightened. How often had I analyzed a business issue from multiple angles, believing I had covered all the bases? How often in my personal life had I observed someone or heard what they said and thought I had a good sense of them? I realized in that moment that I could only ever know part of the story.
When we meet someone, when we take in the daily news, when we ponder a dilemma or vexing issue of the day, it’s human nature to believe that between our powers of observation and our judgment, borne of many years of experience and hard-won wisdom, we have a good sense of who or what is laid before us. We’re pretty sure we understand why that neighbor voted the way he did, or why the young people in our lives are addicted to social media. It matters in those moments to remember that we may not be seeing all of the stones. There is always something we don’t know. That doesn’t mean we have somehow not done the work or have failed in the moment, just that it might be a good idea to humble oneself, withhold judgment, and keep an open mind.
The end point is not to understand, but to be enlarged, our vision expanded. Not unlike Buddhism itself or any other religion worthy of your time, which should not be about believing in answers that can’t be questioned, but about how to live with questions that can’t be answered.
To this day, I still find it hard to know when I have been enlightened. Then I smile, for I realize that that itself just might be enlightenment.