The samurai who listened to cats

A samurai, a fierce warrior, was fishing peacefully on the bank of a river. He caught a fish and was about to cook it when the cat, hidden under a bush, jumped up and stole his prey.

Upon realizing this, the samurai became enraged, pulled out his saber and with one blow cut the cat in two.

This warrior was a fervent Buddhist and the remorse of having killed a living being did not allow him to live in peace later.

Upon entering the house, the whisper of the wind in the trees murmured meow.

The people he passed seemed to say meow to him.

The children's gaze reflected meows.

When he approached, his friends meowed incessantly.

At night he dreamed nothing but meows.

During the day, every sound, thought or act of his life was transformed into a meow.

He himself had become a meow.

His condition was only getting worse. His obsession pursued him, tortured him without respite or rest. Unable to stop the meowing, he went to the temple to ask an old Zen master for advice.

– Please, I beg you, help me, free me.

The Master replied:

– You are a warrior, how could you fall so low? If you can't defeat the meows yourself, you deserve death. You have no other solution than to do haraquiri. Here and now.

– And he added: However, I am a monk and I have pity on you. When you begin to open your belly, I will cut off your head with my saber to shorten your sufferings.

The samurai agreed and, despite his fear of death, he prepared for the ceremony. When everything was ready, he sat on his knees, took his dagger with both hands and pointed it towards his belly. Behind him, standing, the Master brandished his saber.

“The time has come,” he told him, “start.”

Slowly, the samurai rested the tip of the knife on his abdomen. Then the teacher asked him:

– Do you hear the meows now?

– Oh, no, not now!

– So, if they have disappeared, you don't need to die.

Teacher: Actually, we are all very similar to that samurai. Anxious and tormented, fearful and complaining, the slightest thing frightens us. The problems that concern us do not have the importance we give them. They are similar to the meow in the story.

In the face of death, what is there that matters?

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