BOING! BOING! BOING!
Don’t be a grouch. Don’t slouch. Park yourself on the couch. Sit on your hands and bounce. The springs go onomatopoeic — boing, boing, boing. Sing it out –Boing! Boing! Boing!
The Zen master comes off the rug like a tidal wave and boxes your ears. “Ah, Grasshopper!” he says. “You are such a piece of work!”
You contain a kernel that he’s trying to crack like a koan, like an Easter egg, like the Da Vince Code.
You are in the presence of the only man in the world who doesn’t think you’re insane, and he is in the presence of the only man in the world who doesn’t take him seriously. Together you are on the verge of a breakthru.
