Courage

"A young man in Japan arranged his circumstances so that he was able to travel to a distant island to study Zen with a certain Master for a three-year period. At the end of the three years, feeling no sense of accomplishment, he presented himself to the Master and announced his departure.

The Master said, "You've been been three years. Why don't you stay three months more?"

The student agreed, but at the end of the three months be still felt that he had made no advance.

When he told the Master again that he was leaving, the Master said, "Look now, you've been here three years and three months. Stay three weeks longer."

The student did, but with no success.

When he told the Master that absolutely nothing had happened, the Master said, '"You've been here three years, three months, and three weeks. Stay three more days, and if, at the end of that time, you have not attained enlightenment, commit suicide."

...Towards the end of the second day, the student was enlightened.

I knew from my reading that Cage's divorce from Xenia Andreyevna Kashevaroff, and his own subsequent coming out was difficult for him and that, while he did not trust psychotherapy, he did trust the Zen Buddhism that he had learned from studying with D.T. Suzuki at Columbia University. I also knew the tales of the recalcitrant Zen masters and the extremes that eager young students went through to study with them, exemplified in the above paragraph.

D.T. Suzuki

Xenia Andreyevna Kashevaroff

 

In October of 1977, in what would now be considered stalking: I sold all my possessions, broke my lease, quit my job and drove from Richmond, Virginia to the East Village in New York City where Cage lived. There were no Iphones then so I rolled up to his home at 108 Bank Street with a 7.5 ips Teac reel to reel tape recorder and a pair of headphones, knocked on the door and said "I know you won't teach me, but would you just look at some of my scores and listen to my music and tell me what you think". He answered with his self-described 'sunny disposition' "Yes"...And that was the beginning.

As a Southern boy, I brought Mr. Cage (he asked me to call him John, but I never could) bourbon as a pleasing gift. I noticed very quickly that, while I was fiercely proud of my capacity to hold my liquor, Cage always seemed to slip quickly by me, in the most congenial way, in his out-drinking-me ways.

I knew I could come back...and I did, every week, usually on Wednesday's, for eight months.