The Zen garden was part of the large house but not of it. The house, a factory as well as a house really, was loud and vibrant, full of almost constant motion and commotion, the noise of many men and women hammering and sawing and painting and drawing and creating, and always the sound of feet running here and there and everywhere. All through the year there was so much to do. Sometimes, well many times, there was stress, and if you were the boss, the one who had to make sure that everything went smoothly, no, perfectly, on the big night, then sometimes there was a whole bowl full of stress. And we all know stress needs to be addressed and dealt with.
That’s why there was a Zen garden, just off the living quarters of the boss and just far enough away from the hubbub of the factory that all of it’s noisy chaos was a mere din, a white noise, a background buzz.
The Zen garden was really a large indoor room with concrete blocks (all the better to block out the factory sounds) forming the four walls, but those walls were covered by Japanese print screens. These showed scenes of birds and forest creatures, and the sea, and beautiful women. The floor of the garden was covered in sand in which had images of snowflakes and bells and Christmas trees drawn into it. In the middle of this sand garden was a large overstuffed cushion and on the large overstuffed cushion sat a large overstuffed man in the half lotus position; it was hard for a man of his girth to sit comfortably in the full lotus, so half lotus was better than no lotus at all. Here in meditation, in deep contemplation of everything and nothing, sat Santa Claus.
Zazen (sitting meditation) was a marvelous boon to ol’ Saint Nick. Before he discovered zazen Santa would get stressed and grumpy and quarrelsome and could be not so very Santa-like at times. But zazen helped calm his mind so Santa could see what was really important, like who was naughty or nice. The big guy still had his moments, but what human doesn’t, at least one who hasn’t obtained enlightenment?
Unfortunately for Santa, one of those moments was about to arrive. Santa was sitting on his overstuffed cushion, eyes half closed, hands on his knees, nothing to hear in the garden but the sound of his own breathing. That’s when Fred, the elf in charge of the reindeer, came bursting through the door, shouting “Santa! Santa! Come! Hurry! There’s a problem in the stables!”
Upon hearing Fred, Santa leapt up from where he was seated and whirled about. He was speedy for such a large man but whenever he moved that quickly his belly really did shake like a bowl full of jelly.
“What...what’s happening?” Santa asked. “You know, I don’t like you guys barging in on me like that. I could have been close to enlightenment.”
“Oh, yeah,” Fred responded. “Lots of enlightenment going on up here at the North Pole. That’s why you still call us elves, like we’re all living in a tree making cookies or something. We prefer to be called little people.”
“Whatever. Listen...” Santa could feel his face flush, but he checked his anger. Fred was a cheeky monkey but he was a union man (all the elves were unionized) so he would be hard to fire. Easy to hide such a small body though, Santa thought, then he quickly tried to erase that thought and find the inner peace he been experiencing just moments ago. Rather than commit elficide, Santa asked Fred what the problem was that needed such immediate attention from the boss.
To be continued....
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