Into the Stillness

The four monks moved in a solemn line, their sandaled feet making faint scuffs against the worn wood of the footbridge. Below them, the stream murmured a soothing melody, its clear waters dancing over smooth stones. The soft gurgle was a gentle reminder of the impermanence of all things—a truth they sought to embrace. Yet, the stillness they yearned for eluded them, lost in the whispers of their restless minds.

Ahead lay the Zen temple, its silhouette barely visible through the mist that clung to the early morning air. The promise of its serenity both drew them forward and unsettled them. Their breaths, controlled but shallow, betrayed the anticipation simmering beneath their calm exteriors.

A crow cawed from the trees, its cry piercing the hushed dawn. The sound rippled through the monks’ thoughts, mingling with questions they were trying to silence. Would the teachings within those sacred walls deepen their understanding? Could they truly set aside their desires and attachments?

The bridge creaked beneath their weight as they paused at its center, the current below pulling fallen leaves along on their fleeting journey. The monks stood still for a moment, gazing down into the water as if seeking answers in its ceaseless flow. Yet, the answers did not come. Not yet. The only thing clear to them was that their minds were not yet mirrors of the stream—free, flowing, and unaffected by the stones that tried to impede its path.

They exchanged no words, for none were needed. With a collective inhale, they turned their attention back to the path ahead, the temple growing clearer as the mist began to lift. The journey was not only through the forest or across the bridge but into the stillness they so desperately sought to find within themselves.