Ok. I need this one explained...and the image is troubling, Zen Psychedelic. I am reminded of Scorpion pose in yoga in which one attempts to touch one's feet to one's head in order to remind oneself to be humble. All I can think is that it would be nice if they let the cat decide. If I was the cat, I think I would have walked away and looked for someone else to love me.
I think this is also about the stubbornness of ego. If one person had said a good word, they could've saved the cat. Instead they remained divided in the--as you say--trap of duality. Beautiful koan and a good laugh!
Ok. I need this one explained...and the image is troubling, Zen Psychedelic. I am reminded of Scorpion pose in yoga in which one attempts to touch one's feet to one's head in order to remind oneself to be humble. All I can think is that it would be nice if they let the cat decide. If I was the cat, I think I would have walked away and looked for someone else to love me.
This is one of the more shocking Zen koans — but the point isn’t cruelty. It’s clarity.
The monks argued over ownership of something that was never meant to be owned.
They were caught in the trap of duality — this or that, yours or mine, right or wrong.
They believed the cat — a metaphor for wholeness & nonduality — could be possessed, divided, or claimed.
Their lack of awareness blinded them to this contradiction.
Nansen wasn’t asking for an answer — he was fishing for signs of insight beneath the argument.
But the monks were stuck in their heads and said nothing.
So the master, in a deliberately extreme act, made their error visible —
by dividing what could not be divided (the cat) in half.
I think this is also about the stubbornness of ego. If one person had said a good word, they could've saved the cat. Instead they remained divided in the--as you say--trap of duality. Beautiful koan and a good laugh!
Thank you—that helps.