"Monks, I will teach you the parable of the raft - for getting across, not for retaining. It is like a man who going on a journey sees a great stretch of water, the near bank with dangers and fears, the farther bank secure and without fears, but there is neither a boat for crossing over, nor a bridge across. It occurs to him that to cross over from the perils of this bank to the security of the farther bank, he should fashion a raft out of sticks and branches and depending on the raft, cross over to safety.
When he has done this it occurs to him that the raft has been very useful and he wonders if he ought to take it with him on his head and shoulders. What do you think, monks? That the man is doing what should be done to the raft?" "No, lord." "What should that man do, monks? When he has crossed over to the beyond he must leave the raft and proceed on his journey. Monks, a man doing this would be doing what should be done to the raft. In this way I have taught you Dharma, like the parable of the raft, for getting across, not for retaining. You, monks, by understanding the parable of the raft, must not cling to right states of mind and, all the more, to wrong states of mind."
The former British 400m record-holder, now 46, was at his peak when he lined up for the 400m semi-final in Barcelona in 1992. Here he relives the day that ended his career but made him an inspiration to millions.
When I took my place on the starting blocks I felt good.
For once I had no injuries, despite eight operations in four years, and I’d won the first two rounds without breaking sweat – including posting the fastest time in the first round heats. I was confident and when the gun went off I got off to a good start.
Derek Redmond was helped towards the finish line by his father Jim
‘I got into my stride running round the first turn and I was feeling comfortable. Then I heard a popping sound. I kept on running for another two or three strides then I felt the pain. I thought I’d been shot, but then I recognised the agony.
‘I’d pulled my hamstring before and the pain is excruciating: like someone shoving a hot knife into the back of your knee and twisting it. I grabbed the back of my leg, uttered a few expletives and hit the deck.
I couldn’t believe this was happening after all the training I’d put in. I looked around to see where the rest of the field were, and they had only 100m to go. I remember thinking if I got up I could still catch them and qualify.
‘The pain was intense. I hobbled about 50m until I was at the 200m mark. Then I realised it was all over. I looked round and saw that everyone else had crossed the finishing line. But I don’t like to give up at anything – not even an argument, as my wife will tell you – and I decided I was going to finish that race if it was the last race I ever did.
‘All these doctors and officials were coming onto the track, trying to get me to stop but I was having none of it. Then, with about 100m to go, I became aware of someone else on the track. I didn’t realise it was my dad, Jim, at first. He said, “Derek, it’s me, you don’t need to do this.”
'I just said, “Dad, I want to finish, get me back in the semi-final.” He said, “OK. We started this thing together and now we’ll finish it together.” He managed to get me to stop trying to run and just walk and he kept repeating, “You’re a champion, you’ve got nothing to prove.”
Today I don’t feel anger, just frustration. The footage has since been used in adverts by Visa, Nike and the International Olympic Committee – I don’t go out of my way to watch it, but it isn’t painful any more
‘We hobbled over the finishing line with our arms round each other, just me and my dad, the man I’m really close to, who’s supported my athletics career since I was seven years old. I’ve since been told there was a standing ovation by the 65,000 crowd, but nothing registered at the time. I was in tears and went off to the medical room to be looked at, then I took the bus back to the Olympic village.
My dream was over. In Seoul four years earlier I didn’t even get to the start line because of an Achilles injury and had “DNS” – Did Not Start – next to my name. I didn’t want them to write “DNF” – Did Not Finish – in Barcelona.
‘When I saw my doctor he told me I’d never represent my country again. I felt like there’d been a death. I never raced again and I was angry for two years. Then one day I just thought: there are worse things than pulling a muscle in a race, and I just decided to get on with my life.
Today I don’t feel anger, just frustration. The footage has since been used in adverts by Visa, Nike and the International Olympic Committee – I don’t go out of my way to watch it, but it isn’t painful any more and I have the Visa ad on my iPad.
‘If I hadn’t pulled a hamstring that day I could have been an Olympic medallist, but I love the life I have now. I might not have been a motivational speaker or competed for my country at basketball, as I went on to do. And my dad wouldn’t have been asked to carry the Olympic torch this year, which was a huge honour for him.
For greater impact, here’s the clip of this touching moment on youtube.
One day there was an earthquake that shook the entire Zen temple. Parts of it even collapsed! Many of the monks were terrified.
When the earthquake stopped the teacher said, "Now you have had the opportunity to see how a Zen man behaves in a crisis situation. You may have noticed that I did not panic. I was quite aware of what was happening and what to do. I led you all to the kitchen, the strongest part of the temple. It was a good decision, because you see we have all survived without any injuries. However, despite my self-control and composure, I did feel a little bit tense - which you may have deduced from the fact that I drank a large glass of water, something I never do under ordinary circumstances."
One of the monks smiled, but didn't say anything.
"What are you laughing at? asked the teacher.
"That wasn't water," the monk replied, "it was a large glass of soy sauce."
A merchant in Baghdad sent his servant on an errand to the bazaar and the man came back white with fear and trembling. "Master," he said, "while I was in the marketplace, I walked into a stranger. When I looked him in the face, I found that it was Death. He made a threatening gesture at me and walked away. Now I am afraid. Please give me a horse so that I can ride at once to Samarra and put as great a distance as possible between Death and me." The merchant - in his anxiety for the man - gave him his swiftest steed. The servant was on it and away in a trice. Later in the day the merchant himself went down to the bazaar and saw Death loitering there in the crowd. So he went up to him and said, "You made a threatening gesture at my poor servant this morning. " What did it mean?" "That was no threatening gesture, sir," said Death. "It was a start of surprise at seeing him here in Baghdad." "Why would he not be in Baghdad? This is where the man lives." "Well, I had been given to understand that he would join me in Samarra tonight, you see..." Suggest a Title for this story!
When the Greek philosopher Diogenes was captured and taken to be sold in the slave market, it is said that he mounted the auctioneer's platform and loudly said, "A master has come here to be sold. Is there some slave among you who is desirous of purchasing him?" What a thought ! But this story really generates many questions. The questions that came to my mind were..... Who is a Master? Who is a Slave? Can a Master be bought? Who has the 'capacity' to Buy a Master? Can a Master be sold? Who is the Master of Master who can sell him? Who can 'Buy' a Master? Can a Master 'Sell' himself? A Master is always a Master. A Master gives us an opportunity to be a Master. Master of Whom? Master of What? For What? Do share your thoughts.
