Ajahn Brahm - Don't Worry, Be Grumpy

The next day, the dog returned to her house, and she let it come inside again. The dog went to the same quiet corner, curled up, and went to sleep for another two hours.

After this same pattern repeated two or three more times, the woman began to wonder where this lovable dog lived and why it kept coming back to her house. So she wrote a note, folded it, and placed it under the Labrador’s collar. The note said something like:

Your dog has been coming to my house every afternoon for the past five days. All it does is sleep quietly. It is such a lovely, good-natured dog that I don’t mind. I just wonder where it lives and why it keeps coming.

The next day the dog returned to sleep in its corner, but with another note tucked into the collar. The reply read:

My dog lives in a noisy house with my nagging wife and four children, two of whom are under five. He comes to your house for some peace and quiet and to catch up on his sleep. May I come too?

An Australian man was on a group trek in the foothills of the Himalayas, in the region to the west of Tibet called Ladakh. The scenery was so spectacular that he lingered behind the others taking photo after photo. Thinking to catch up with the rest of the group by taking a shortcut, he unfortunately took a wrong path, lost sight of the others, and became completely lost.

After wandering in the wilderness without a map for a couple of hours, he became anxious. The sun had set behind the peaks, it was getting darker and colder by the minute, and he was still completely lost. This was getting dangerous.

In the distance, he saw the faint glow of lights. Walking toward them, he made out an old Buddhist monastery, secluded on the mountain. Approaching, he rapped on the large wooden door framing the entrance to the temple. After some time he heard the shuffle of footsteps, and the door creaked open to reveal a small, frail old monk, the abbot of the monastery.

The kind abbot listened to his story and invited him to stay the night in his own quarters, the only room in the monastery with a Western-style bed. The compassionate abbot would sleep elsewhere. He knew where the trekkers went and would give him a young monk the following day to guide him back to his trekking group.

After a simple supper, the exhausted Australian quickly fell asleep in the abbot’s comfortable bed. Just after midnight, he woke up to the sound of the most amazing music he had ever heard. He had attended many concerts at the Sydney Opera House, but never, never had he listened to such a soft yet thrilling melody and felt such bliss. Tears rolled down his cheeks in ecstasy as he lay in bed soaking up every divine note. He did not know when, but the heavenly music took him into the most relaxing deep sleep of his life. He woke up fully rested and content for the first time in many years.

After breakfast, he went to thank the abbot for lending him his bed. He also told the abbot about the music and asked what it was.

“Oh, that,” said the abbot.

“Yes, it was incredible. I’ve never heard anything like it.”

“That, young man, is something supernatural. According to our monastery rules, I cannot tell you because you are not a monk.”

The Australian frowned, got out his wallet, and offered the abbot a hundred dollars.

“No, no.” said the abbot.

“Okay, how much?” asked the Australian.

“Look,” replied the abbot firmly, “even if you offered 100 million dollars, I still couldn’t tell you. Only monks may know!”

The Australian could not bribe the abbot, and so he left. Soon, he rejoined his group, successfully completed the trek, and returned to Australia.

Back home, he kept thinking about that supernatural music. He started obsessing so much about it that he began to lose sleep and became distracted at work. He saw one of the best psychologists in Sydney, but still he could not get that music out of his head. It was literally driving him crazy. There was only one thing to do.

Almost a year to the day since his previous visit, he appeared at the gate of that monastery in Ladakh and asked to see the abbot. The abbot remembered him. The Australian explained that he simply had to find out what made that music; otherwise he would go mad.

“I’m so sorry,” said the abbot with genuine compassion. “As I told you the last time, I cannot tell you because you are not a monk.”

“So make me a monk!” replied the Australian.

It takes two years of training, study, and learning all the chants to become a monk in a strict monastery. The Australian put himself through all that rigorous process, and finally after two years, the abbot ordained him as a monk.

As soon as the ordination was over, the Australian asked the abbot, “Now I am a monk, you can tell me. What is that heavenly music?”

Smiling, the abbot replied, “Come to my room at midnight and I will show you.”

The new monk was there one hour early, such was his excitement. He had waited three years and sacrificed everything, training hard to become a monk. The moment had now arrived.

Just before midnight, the abbot took out an old set of keys from his desk and drew back a curtain in his room to reveal a hidden wooden door. The abbot opened that door with a key made from wood. The labored creak of the door told that it had not been opened for many years, maybe even decades. There was a corridor, at the end of which was another door made of iron. As they walked toward it, an old clock in the monastery sounded the twelve chimes of midnight. The abbot used an iron key to open the second heavy door. After they had walked through, the heavenly music started. Being much closer, it was clear and sweet. Waves of joy swept through the Australian’s body. Nothing in his life meant anything compared to this. They walked toward another door, and the abbot took out his silver key, for this door was made of solid silver mined from the mountains. It would be worth a fortune in Australia, but you don’t think of such things when you are hearing music whose beauty is beyond words. After opening the silver door, he could see what was obviously the final door. It was made of pure gold, six inches thick, and decorated with priceless gems. The abbot took out a large golden key and then paused in front of the gold door. Turning to the Australian, he said with a gravity that demands one’s full attention, “Are you sure you’re ready for this? It’s something supernatural. It will change you forever. Are you prepared for that?”

The Australian was excited and terrified at the same time. He had never made such a momentous decision before. Seeing what was behind the gold door might send him mad, but not seeing it would drive him crazy. So he said, “Okay. Let’s do it.”

The abbot placed the key in the lock. The Australian’s body began to shake as the abbot slowly opened the heavy, ancient gold door.

And there it was! Oh my Lord! It was too much for any mere mortal to comprehend! It went beyond this world! It transcended all perceptions!

And what was it?

I am sorry, but I am not allowed to tell you, because you’re not a monk!

I saw my first pictures of the Himalayas while I was at school in London. They were so vast, so wild and alluring, that I decided that I would go there myself one day.

During the northern summer of 1973, after finishing university and before starting work as a schoolteacher, I set off from Victoria Station in London for India and the mighty Himalaya. Two weeks later I was in India, and it was raining every day. If I had checked before planning my journey, I would have discovered that this was monsoon season on the subcontinent. Even going as far north as Kathmandu, I could see only rain clouds, never the Himalayas. I soon gave up any hope of seeing the greatest mountains in the world. Fortunately, there were many other things to do in such an exotic land.