Tanzan the master and young Ekido were once traveling together down a muddy road. A heavy rain was still falling.
Coming around a bend, they met a lovely girl in a silk kimono and sash, unable to cross the intersection.
"Come on, girl," said Tanzan at once. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her over the mud.
Ekido did not speak again until that night when they reached a lodging temple. Then he no longer could restrain himself. "We monks don't go near females," he told Tanzan, "especially not young and lovely ones. It is dangerous. Why did you do that?"
"I left the girl there," said Tanzan. "Are you still carrying her?"
I had a big row with my mom recently, afterwards I was moody the whole day and kept thinking about the row. Though I know the theory of letting go of the past and emotional detachment, but it is so difficult in reality.
I wish I could be calmer in handling the situation and balancing my state of mind. I hope that someday my heart will be more like a deep ocean, where the storm can stir the surface but not shake the depth.
I am Ekido, who still carries the girl in his mind, even long after the girl is gone.