Different Names

A young monk sweeping the temple courtyard noticed a single autumn leaf resting upon a smooth gray stone.

The leaf was crimson and gold, touched by frost and wind. The stone beneath it was ancient, worn by countless seasons.

The monk stopped his sweeping and stared.

"Master," he asked, "why does the leaf lie there while all the others dance across the ground?"

The old master came and sat beside him.

They watched the leaf together.

The morning breeze moved through the pines, but the leaf remained still.

The monk waited for an answer.

At last the master said, "What do you think the leaf is doing?"

"It is resting."

The master nodded.

"And what is the stone doing?"

The monk thought for a moment.

"Nothing."

The master smiled.

The monk felt pleased with his answer.

Then a stronger gust of wind came. The leaf trembled but did not move.

The master picked up the leaf and held it in his hand.

"When this leaf was on the branch, it feared the wind."

He released it.

"When it fell, it feared the ground."

The leaf drifted gently back onto the stone.

"Now it fears neither."

The monk looked at the leaf.

"But Master, it is dying."

The old man touched the stone.

"This stone was once a mountain."

He pointed toward the forest.

"The mountain became sand."

He pointed toward the valley below.

"The sand became soil."

He pointed to the leaf.

"The soil became a tree."

The monk was silent.

The master continued.

"The tree became a leaf. The leaf will become soil again."

Then he asked, "Tell me, at what point did anything die?"

The monk searched for an answer but found none.

Years passed.

The old master died.

The young monk became an old monk.

One autumn morning he sat alone in the same courtyard.

A single leaf rested upon the same stone.

For a moment he remembered the question he had asked long ago.

Then a breeze lifted the leaf and carried it away.

The stone remained.

The old monk smiled.

The leaf had not stayed.

The stone would not stay.

Neither would he.

The wind moved through them all,

and called each by a different name.