Empty-Handed

After his confirmation as head abbot of a large and important temple, a Zen master found the route to his new office took him through his old hometown, the village he had left so long ago when he had struck out to make something of himself. Dressed in purple and gold robes, and stepping along with a dignified entourage, he was passing along the main street when an old man stumbled up and called him by name. "Say, I remember you!" the old man said. "You're the garbage collector's son." The newly appointed abbot was completely embarrassed, and his face turned red. In a moment, he realized the enlightenment he had "gained" was no enlightenment at all. Donating his vestments to the village, he donned his old black robes, went back to his former temple, tore up his certificate of enlightenment, and headed for his meditation cushion.