A tough, brawny samurai once approached a Zen master who was deep in meditation. Impatient and discourteous, the samurai demanded in a husky voice, accustomed to forceful shouting:

“Tell me the nature of heaven and hell.”

The Zen master slowly opened his eyes, looked directly at the samurai, and replied with scorn:

“Why should I answer a shabby, disgusting, despondent slob like you? A worm like you — do you really think you deserve an answer? I can’t stand you. Get out of my sight. I have no time for foolish questions.”

The samurai could not bear these insults. His face burned with rage. In a flash, he drew his sword and raised it, ready to sever the master’s head.

Calmly, looking straight into the samurai’s eyes, the Zen master said:

“That… is hell.”

The samurai froze.

In that moment, he understood. His anger had taken complete control of him. His mind had created its own hell — a world filled with hatred, resentment, ego, and blind fury. He realized how close he was to committing an irreversible act.

Tears filled the samurai’s eyes. He slowly lowered his sword, placed it aside, and joined his palms together. Bowing deeply, he expressed his gratitude for the insight.

The Zen master gently smiled and said:

“And that… is heaven.”