Ryokan: Zen Master of Idleness and Kindness

Too lazy to be ambitious,
I let the world take care of itself.
Ten days’ worth of rice in my bag;
a bundle of twigs by the fireplace.
Why chatter about delusion and enlightenment?
Listening to the night rain on my roof,
I sit comfortably, with both legs stretched out.
             – Ryokan (1758-1831)

Ryokan (1758–1831) was a Zen master, hermit, calligrapher, and poet who lived in simplicity and embodied profound kindness. He was known for his great kindness – he would pick lice out of his robe, place them outside so that they could get some sun and then later put them back into his robe. He smiled continuously, and people said that when he visited they felt “as if spring had come on a dark winter’s day.” He took the name “Great Fool” for himself. When a thief stole his few simple possessions, he wrote this famous haiku:

The thief left it behind:
the moon
at my window.

In this response, Ryokan embodies wu wei—effortless non-action—and the Zen practice of non-attachment. Rather than anger or loss, he finds the moon's beauty, a gift the thief could not take.

Ryokan called himself Great Fool. In the Zen and Taoist traditions, the fool is the one who has stopped performing wisdom and simply lives it — unhurried, unguarded, at ease with rain and moonlight and the small facts of a day.

. . .

Ryokan worked at his poetry
Practiced kindness
And listened to the rain.
He mastered the art of idleness
And the gentle arts of enjoying life.
       - Journal Note

Idleness, in the Taoist and Zen sense, is not laziness but a return to naturalness—wu wei, the art of non-forcing. Ryokan's life invites us to listen, to pause, and to find the moon even when the thief has come.