More Than Riddles
Zen Buddhism koans are not riddles to be solved. They are stories that show us something deeper.
Think of them instead as keys.
They are questions that go past our thinking minds. Their job is to help us see reality more clearly. They are tools for waking up.
What You Will Find
This article won't give you answers. A koan works by breaking down the part of your mind that wants neat solutions.
Instead, we will look at six classic Zen koans. Each story comes with a short reflection. You'll also find questions to help you think about what the story means.
Consider these koans as mirrors that show you your own mind. They are doorways, and all you need to walk through is your complete attention.
How to Read These Stories
Working with a koan takes practice. It's not just reading words on a page. Most people want to analyze and figure things out. Koans are meant to stop this habit.
To get more from these stories, here's a simple guide. This approach honors what koans are for and helps prevent the frustration of trying to solve them logically.
This method teaches you how to think about koans. It helps you move from just reading words to really experiencing the question.
Four Invitations for Journeying
-
Let Go of "Solving"
Your brain is a powerful tool, but for this work, you need to set it aside. Don't look for a clever answer. The power of a koan comes from not knowing. The real work happens in the asking, not in finding an answer. -
Sit with the Discomfort
These stories can be confusing or even make you angry. That's part of the process. When you feel your mind straining for an answer or getting frustrated, just notice that feeling. Watch it without judging. This is the koan doing its job. My first time with a koan involved a week of mental struggle and feeling like I failed, followed by a deep quiet when I finally stopped needing a logical answer. That quiet is where the real work begins. -
Feel, Don't Just Think
Experience the story with your whole self. How does the story feel in your body? Is it sharp? Open? Does it create tension or release? Let the koan be something you feel, not just an idea. The truth it points to isn't something you can put into words. -
Return to the Present Moment
Many Zen Buddhism koans are designed to bring you back to what's happening right now. When your mind wanders into thinking too much, use the koan to anchor yourself. Come back to your breath. Feel your hands. Return to the simple question of the koan itself.
The Koan Collection
Here are six gateways. These are important stories from Zen Buddhism. Read them slowly. Let one of them speak to you.
Jōshū's Dog (Mu)
This is perhaps the most famous koan in all of Zen. Many students start with this one, and it appears first in the classic collection, The Gateless Gate.
A monk once asked the Zen Master Jōshū, "Does a dog have Buddha-nature or not?"
Jōshū replied, "Mu."
(Mu is a Japanese word that means no, not, nothing, or un-ask.)
Points to Ponder
According to Buddhist teaching, all living beings have Buddha-nature. The monk was asking a question that should get a "yes" answer.
Why did Jōshū say no? What was he trying to show with this short, sharp word?
What happens in your mind when you expect a deep "yes" but get a simple "no"?
Hold this sound, "Mu," in your mind. What is it?
The Sound of One Hand
This koan comes from Master Hakuin, who brought new life to Zen in 18th century Japan. He gave this question to his students to break their old ways of thinking.
Master Hakuin said to his students, "You can hear the sound of two hands clapping. Now, show me the sound of one hand."
Points to Ponder
Is this about sound? Your logical mind tries to find a physical answer but can't.
Notice where your thoughts go when trying to solve this. Watch how they fail. That failure is where growth happens.
This koan challenges how we see reality, which is built on pairs: two hands, sound and silence, you and me. What exists outside these pairs?
Can you hear it?
Nansen Kills the Cat
This is a troubling koan. It forces us to face our ideas about right, wrong, and taking action.
Monks from the eastern and western halls were arguing over a cat. Master Nansen, seeing this, held up the cat and said, "If any of you can say a true word of Zen, you can save this cat."
The monks were silent.
So Nansen cut the cat in two.
Later that evening, Nansen's chief student, Jōshū, returned. Nansen told him what had happened. Jōshū said nothing. He simply removed his sandals, placed them on his head, and walked out of the room.
Nansen remarked, "If only you had been there, you could have saved the cat."
Points to Ponder
This story challenges our normal ideas of right and wrong. What is the link between kindness and wise action?
What did Nansen want from his monks? What is a "true word"?
Jōshū's response makes no logical sense. What does his action show that the other monks' silence could not?
This koan asks us to look beyond our fixed ideas. What was the real problem? The argument, the cat, or the monks' failure to act?
A Cup of Tea
This story shows a direct lesson about what we need to learn anything new.
A university professor, known for his knowledge, came to Master Nan-in to ask about Zen.
Nan-in served tea. He poured the visitor's cup full, and then kept on pouring.
The professor watched the overflow until he could no longer stay quiet. "It is overfull! No more will go in!"
"Like this cup," Nan-in said, "you are full of your own opinions and ideas. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?"
Points to Ponder
What does the "cup" stand for in our lives? What are we already full of?
This isn't just about book knowledge. We are full of beliefs, past experiences, who we think we are, and worries.
What would it mean to "empty your cup" right now, in this moment?
This koan invites us to have what Zen calls "beginner's mind"—a mind that's open, eager, and free from old ideas.
Your Original Face
This question comes from Huineng, the Sixth Patriarch of Zen in China. It points directly to who we really are, before life shaped us.
The question is posed: "Without thinking of good or evil, at this very moment, what is your original face before your parents were born?"
Points to Ponder
This koan asks you to strip away everything you use to define yourself.
First, go beyond good and evil—beyond all judgments and ideas.
Then, go beyond this moment, before your body and mind as you know them existed. Before history, before memory.
What remains when you remove your name, your story, your body, your thoughts? The koan isn't asking for a description. It's asking you to see It directly.
Who are you, truly, beneath it all?
Is That So?
This koan shows how Zen principles can be lived in the middle of life's drama.
The Zen Master Hakuin was known for his pure life. Next door lived a beautiful Japanese girl whose parents owned a food store. Suddenly, her parents discovered she was pregnant.
This made them very angry. The girl would not say who the father was, but after much pressure, she named Hakuin.
In great anger, the parents went to the master. "Is that so?" was all he would say.
After the child was born, it was brought to Hakuin. By this time he had lost his good name, which did not bother him. He took the child and cared for it well, getting milk from his neighbors.
A year later, the young mother could not bear it anymore. She told her parents the truth—that the real father was a young man who worked in the fish market.
The mother and father went at once to Hakuin to apologize and to get the child back.
Hakuin was willing. In giving up the child, all he said was: "Is that so?"
Points to Ponder
What does Hakuin's simple, two-word response show?
He is not moved by praise or blame. He does not cling to his reputation or get caught in the drama around him.
How is his response different from denial, making excuses, or anger? It is a simple acceptance of what is.
This story shows the deep freedom of letting go. It shows a mind that is stable and clear, like a deep lake whose surface is not disturbed by the wind.
The Silence After the Story
The koan does not end when you stop reading. Its purpose is to stay with you, off the page and into your life.
The story is a seed. Its real job is to plant a question deep in your mind.
The Koan Doesn't End Here
Don't try to hold all six stories at once. Maybe one spoke to you more than the others. Perhaps one felt especially annoying or interesting.
Pick that one.
Carry it with you through your day. As you wash dishes, ask, "What is the sound of one hand?" As you deal with a difficult person, ask, "Is that so?" As you look in the mirror, ask, "What is my original face?"
The real "answer" to a Zen koan is not a concept or a clever phrase. It is a shift in how you see. It is the direct experience of seeing the world, and yourself, just as they are.
