How Does A Zen Master Deal with Fear?

A young man once came to a Zen master, pale and trembling.

-       Master, I am ruined! I just lost money in the market. My chest is tight, I can’t sleep. I see only disaster coming.”

The master clapped his hands loudly—BANG! The student jumped.

-       There! Fear arrived!” the master said with a grin. “But look—it reminded you of your heart beating, your lungs alive, your ears sharp. Fear is a gift—it wakes you up! Without it, you’d keep sleepwalking in your tiny shirt-drama.

The student frowned, then smiled, then laughed.

-       So even my panic is a reminder?

-       Exactly,” the master said. “Fear says: Stop clinging to one wave, fool! Remember—you are the Ocean. The wave is just today’s hairstyle.

-       Master, so when will fear end?
When you stop feeding it rice.

Both burst out laughing.

And from that day on, whenever fear visited, the young man would bow and say: “Thank you for splashing me. I’ll go swim in the Ocean now.”

Fear isn’t an enemy; it’s a mischievous friend pointing back to the Ocean of life.
When we cling to forms (cups, money, past joys), we live as waves—always crashing, fearing loss.

When we relax into the whole, even fear becomes a gift: floating with life here-now.