Two Monks by the River.

I was told this story last night, and it really kind of hit home. I'm surprised I had never heard it before. Thought I'd share:


A young Buddhist monk walked with an elder monk on their way
back to their temple after several days of travel. On the way,
they came to a creek bed, the banks of which had softened to a
wet, slushy mess. At the edge of the creek stood an attractive
young woman dressed in traditional gowns, who was obviously
wanting to cross the water but had no idea how to contend with
the mud. If she attempted to traverse it, her legs would surely
sink shin-deep into the muck.

As they approached the young lady, the younger monk averted his
eyes and looked down, for theirs was a stern discipline, and
monks were not allowed to gaze upon a woman, let alone speak to
or interact with her, particularly when the woman was as
fetching and young as this one. To his horror, however, the
older monk walked straight toward the woman and asked her if she
needed to cross.

The woman shyly said yes, and without another
word, he hoisted her piggy-style onto his back and carried the
woman across the creek. The younger monk followed them across
the creek, stunned. Once on the other side, the woman profusely
thanked her new friend, shook his hand, and resumed her journey,
disappearing into the trees.

The young man was aghast, but respectful of his elder, he held
his tongue. For three hours they walked side by side, all the
while the student confused as to how his companion could so
flagrantly violate one of the cardinal rules of their temple.
The older one had, after all, not only engaged the woman, he had
spoken to her, and then not only did he touch her, he carried
her on his back! How could such a thing be justified?!

For another hour they walked in total silence, and finally came
the point when the young man could stand it no longer. He
stepped forward two paces and then whirled on his walking
companion to face him in anger.

"How could you do that?!" he shouted.

"Do what?" asked the older monk, looking at him.

He rolled his eyes. "It is a sin to touch a woman, a violation
to even gaze upon her, and yet you spoke with her.
You...you...shook her hand!" He sputtered in his anger. "You
carried her across the creek! YOU CARRIED HER!!"

"And you still carry her," said his older friend, smiling the
faintest of smiles and bowing slightly. "I left her back at the
river."

So, in other words, quit carrying around the baggage you can't change, the situations you can't control. Let it go. You're missing out on what's around you if you're too busy dwelling on what happened in the past.