The Cat and the Sandals

The story of Zen Master Nansen cutting down a cat, and his disciple Joshu placing his sandals upon his head — revealing a lesson on non-self (anatta) and equality within the Buddha's teachings (Dharma).

In the morning at the meditation monastery, the young sun had just risen, its first rays slipping through the leaves and falling upon a courtyard of deep red brick. The air was calm and pure, and only the clear song of birds could be heard among the branches. Yet inside the East Hall and the West Hall, the atmosphere burned as hot as fire.

The monks of the two halls were quarreling over a cat. The cat, its fur snow-white and its eyes deep blue, lay stretched out in the middle of the courtyard, unaware that it had become the cause of a quarrel that would not end. The monks of the East Hall said: "This cat belongs to us, because we are the ones who feed it every day." The monks of the West Hall would not yield: "No, it belongs to us — we are the ones who pet and stroke it."

The quarrel grew louder and louder; words that began gently soon turned sharp and fierce. One monk of the East Hall, his face flushing red, pointed at the cat: "It has been in the kitchen of the East Hall since yesterday — do not dare take it from us!" A monk of the West Hall, hands on his hips, eyes flashing, answered: "It only wandered over because your hall has mice. And the bowl of milk this morning — I was the one who poured it. Did you see that or not?"

At that very moment, Zen Master Nansen stepped out. Unhurried, holding a knife in his hand, he walked straight to where the cat lay. All the monks fell silent, their eyes following him. He seized the cat, raised the blade high, and spoke in a voice deep and cold: "If any of you can speak a single word of truth, I will spare this cat. If you cannot, I will kill it."

The monks of the East Hall and the West Hall stammered, yet not one of them could find a word. Their faces turned ashen, beads of sweat gathering on their foreheads; they looked at one another, then at the cat, then at the gleaming blade in the master's hand. Master Nansen waited a moment, and then, without hesitation, he brought the knife down in a single blow, cutting the cat in two. He cast its body upon the ground, brushed off his hands, and walked away, leaving the monks frozen where they stood, the color draining from their faces.

That afternoon, Joshu, a disciple of Master Nansen who had realized the Way, returned from his errands. When he came in to greet his teacher, Master Nansen told him of the morning's events and then asked: "If you had been there at that moment, what would you have said to save the cat?"

Joshu said not a word. Slowly, he removed his sandals, lifted them up, and placed them upon his own head, then turned his back and walked out. Master Nansen watched him go and nodded: "If you had been there this morning, you would have saved the cat."

From that day on, no one in the monastery dared to fight over anything again. The monks quietly reflected on their teacher's lesson: as long as we still see "me" and "mine," there is still suffering (dukkha). Only when we see no difference between ourselves and everyone else have we truly touched the truth.

The Meaning of the Story

This story teaches us the ethic of equality and non-self (anatta). As long as we cling to a self, we easily fall into grasping and comparison, into winning and losing, bringing suffering (dukkha) upon ourselves and upon others. The deeper one's practice, the humbler one becomes, seeing oneself as no different from everyone else — without division, without ranking above or below. That, indeed, is the true truth of the Buddha's teachings (Dharma).

Compiled from a dharma talk by the Venerable Thích Chân Quang.