Welcome,
Before the story begins,
Just let yourself arrive,
Not by effort,
Not by intention,
But just simply by noticing that you are already here.
So,
Let your body settle in the way it knows how,
And let your breath come and go without any instruction.
There is nothing you need to understand or achieve,
But just listening is enough.
So,
The story… Long ago,
A student lived and studied with a Taoist master.
The days were simple,
Chopping wood,
Carrying water,
Sitting quietly.
One morning,
The master handed the student a plain clay pot.
It was nothing ornate,
Nothing special.
Use this,
The master said,
And went on with his day.
The student accepted the pot.
He carried it carefully,
And he used it daily.
Over time,
He began to think of it as his.
This is my pot.
This is my bowl.
It was something given,
Something owned.
One afternoon,
As the student was washing the pot,
The master approached.
He looked at the pot,
And he asked quietly,
Whose pot is this?
The student answered without hesitation,
It is my pot.
The master nodded and walked away.
Now,
Just let this question linger for a moment.
Whose pot is this?
Do not answer yet.
Just notice what the question stirs.
So,
The days passed,
And again the master saw the student using the pot.
Again,
He asked,
Whose pot is this?
The student paused this time.
Well,
He said,
It was given to me by you.
The master nodded and walked away,
But still the question remained.
Let's just take a moment to reflect.
The weight of mine in Taoism.
A question that is asked twice is not repetition,
It is an invitation to look more deeply.
The student began to feel a little unsettled.
The pot had not changed,
But something in him had.
Ownership,
He noticed,
Was not as solid as he thought.
Was the pot his because he used it?
Because it was given?
Because he felt attached?
So,
This question deepens now.
Another day passed,
And the master asked again,
Whose pot is this?
And the student replied slowly,
It belongs to the monastery.
The master smiled faintly and walked away,
And still the question followed him.
Just reflect and notice what is happening now.
The pot has not moved,
But the student's certainty has.
Just let that be.
So,
One morning,
The student was carrying the pot across the courtyard.
His foot caught on a stone,
And the pot,
It slipped from his hands and shattered on the ground.
The sound echoed briefly,
And the student froze.
The master approached and looked at the broken pieces.
Then he asked softly,
Whose pot is this?
The student felt something release.
This time,
He did not answer,
Because there was nothing left to defend.
Let's reflect for a moment on when ownership falls away.
The pot could no longer be claimed,
No longer held,
No longer used,
And yet the student remained.
So,
In Taoist teaching,
Loss is often the moment when clarity arrives.
Not because something is gone,
But because illusion breaks with it.
How much of who we think we are is wrapped around what we call mine.
My body,
My role,
My health,
My future,
My story.
And what happens when something breaks,
When something changes without permission?
The Tao does not ask us to stop caring,
It asks us to stop clinging.
Let's just return to the question.
The master did not ask to confuse the student,
He asked to loosen him.
Because the moment ownership dissolves,
What remains is presence.
Not possession,
Not identity,
Just being.
So,
As this story settles,
Just stay with what remains.
Notice your breath.
Notice your body.
Notice that even without the pot,
Life continues.
You continue.
There is something in you that does not break when objects break.
Something that does not disappear when certainty shatters.
The Tao does not belong to anyone,
And because of that,
It carries everything.
You do not need to give anything up right now.
But,
Just take a moment to notice where you are gripping,
And just see what happens when your hand softens,
When the question whose is this is allowed to remain open.
Not answered,
Not solved,
Just lived.
So,
When you are ready,
Just let your eyes open gently,
And carry this question with you,
Not as doubt,
But as freedom.
Because what is truly you was never owned,
And can never be taken.
Namaste,
My friend.
