A Zen Buddhism saying, the full version is: “Before enlightenment chop wood – carry water, after enlightenment chop wood carry water”. There’s depth to this saying that I will leave unexplored for now. For today’s blog, I use the saying to reflect upon the notion that being successful doesn't mean that the work that led you there goes away.
Many of us get caught up in the end results of what we're working toward or in the idea of how things will be in our lives when we finally achieve our goals. We place unnecessary stress on ourselves to get that next promotion, attain the recognition we feel we deserve or to buy a better car. Yet, being on a career or lifestyle-track doesn’t mean you have to stop enjoying the journey of life or even work all day, every day.
You will grow, change and evolve, and opportunities will come your way—opportunities that if embraced will help move you toward your best self, like seeking daily presence and gratitude in everything you do and have, no matter how significant or mundane.
You can keep things simple and reduce stress by focusing on the daily process and sticking to your schedule with presence, rather than worrying about or incessantly thinking ahead on the big, life or career goals. When you focus on your practice instead of your performance, you can enjoy the present moment and improve at the same time. In other words, enjoy the art of the ‘chopping wood and carrying water’.
May you gain something more from this parable:
After winning several archery contests, the young and rather boastful champion challenged a Zen master who was renowned for his skill as an archer. The young man demonstrated remarkable technical proficiency when he hit a distant bull's eye on his first try, and then split that arrow with his second shot.
"There," he said to the old man, "see if you can match that!"
Undisturbed, the master did not draw his bow, but rather motioned for the young archer to follow him up the mountain. Curious about the old fellow's intentions, the champion followed him high into the mountain until they reached a deep chasm spanned by a rather flimsy and shaky log. Calmly stepping out onto the middle of the unsteady and certainly perilous bridge, the old master picked a far away tree as a target, drew his bow, and fired a clean, direct hit.
"Now it is your turn," he said as he gracefully stepped back onto the safe ground.
Staring with terror into the seemingly bottomless and beckoning abyss, the young man could not force himself to step out onto the log, no less shoot at a target.
"You have much skill with your bow," the master said, sensing his challenger's predicament, "but you have little skill with the mind that lets loose the shot."