The imposing samurai, known for his fierce demeanor and booming voice, stormed into the Zen master’s serene meditation chamber. “Tell me,” he demanded, “the nature of heaven and hell.”

The Zen master, unfazed, opened his eyes and regarded the samurai with a calm, unwavering gaze. “Why,” he replied, his voice steady and measured, “should I enlighten someone as uncouth and disrespectful as yourself? You, with your shabby appearance and your foul temper, dare to demand answers from me? Begone!”

Insulted and enraged, the samurai roared and drew his sword, preparing to strike down the master.

But as he raised his weapon, the Zen master spoke calmly, “That, my friend, is hell.”

The samurai froze, the sword hovering above him. He felt a surge of icy dread. His anger, he realized, had consumed him, blinding him to reason and driving him towards violence. He had, in that moment, created his own personal hell – a realm of rage, hatred, and self-destruction.

Tears welled up in the samurai’s eyes. He lowered his sword, shamefaced. “Thank you, Master,” he said, bowing deeply. “You have shown me the true nature of hell.”

The Zen master smiled gently. “And that,” he replied, “is heaven.”