I'm often asked, "Why Zenkat?  Where on Earth did you come up with that name?" 

 

Well, to answer that question we have to go back many years … back to my college days, when I was traveling around the world on a shoestring budget.  After traveling up through Vietnam and into China, I had decided to traverse the Kunlun Mountains into Tibet.  Of course, since I had only been granted a pass to visit Beijing, my visa was not at all valid in any of the western regions.  A run-in with the authorities would have immediately aborted my travels, so I was avoiding the major routes in favor of a high, rocky pass used only by yak-herders.  Tragically, shortly after traversing the pass at 17,500’, a snowstorm hit and I lost the trail.  High in those desolate snowy wastes, exhausted and maddened by the swirling snows, I thought I was a goner – until I thankfully stumbled into a dark yet warm cavern which provided shelter from the storm. 

 

Stunningly, inside the cave I met a strange little man in flowing orange robes.  He warmed me with warm yak-butter tea and pheasant satay and wrapped me in furs.  Once I was warmed and sensation had returned to my frozen toes, my thinking became clear and I examined the strange situation I found myself in.  Exactly what the hell was going on here?  I needed to know, so I asked, not knowing or caring if my host understood English.

 

“Who are you?  Where are we?  How did you find me?  Why the hell do you live up here so high in the mountains, and when can I get to someplace with a decent T1 connection again?”

 

Amazingly, he answered me, and in a perfect Oxford accent no less.  “Ahhh,” he said, a thin smile upon his lips, “these are not the questions you should be asking, my son.  Why I am here, how you came to be here … these are indeed deep questions, but none of them is your question.”

                                                                                                                                                                                    

He was interrupted as a huge black dog slunk from the shadows at the back of the cave and flopped at his feet with a loud sigh.  Its fur was long and luxuriant, yet tangled, and the monk ran his hands through it as he paused in deep thought before continuing.

 

“No, my son, there is only one question you must focus on, one question to which you must devote all of your heart and soul.  This question will in turn fascinate you, frustrate you, overjoy you, and puzzle you.  It will gnaw at your insides and provide sleepless nights without end … In fact, it will be no exaggeration to say that this question will become your life’s work.  When you have fully grasped the eternal truth of this question – and the eternal not-truth of the question – only then will you find the peace that surpasses all understanding.  Until then, you are doomed to bang your head against the brick wall of this question.  This will be my blessing unto you, for you truly deserve it.”

 

I gasped.  When I set out upon my globetrotting trek I had secretly hoped to find the path to true Enlightenment, and now here it was.  The mystical koan, the question whose answer can shatter the doors of perception and lift the veils of maya.  The truest path to understanding in the Mahayana school was being presented to me, a simple punk-ass college kid bumming his way around the world.  My heart overflowed with wonder and awe.  “Yes, master, what is that question?” I asked, knowing my fate was to be forever sealed.

 

He looked at me sternly, the thin smile vanished from his face.  “You understand the burden you are about to take upon yourself.  Understand that you must willingly undertake it – none may force this quest upon you.  So I ask you to think carefully and reply: Do you really want to know this question?  The choice is yours alone to make.”

 

But I knew there really was no choice.  “Yes, master, I wish to know the question.”

 

“You are sure, then?  There can be no turning back.” 

 

This time, I paused.  Was this truly what I wanted?  A lifetime of striving and searching, trying to answer the unanswerable?  Did I really want to turn my back on those simpler pleasures of life that were enjoyed by so many others?  I froze.  In the dark recesses of the cave, the echoes of my heartbeat cavorted with the regular thump-thump-thump of the dog’s tail.

 

After what seemed to be an eternity the guru spoke.  “You must choose.  While the ox may pass through the gate, and his horns, his tail may not.  It is not seemly to pause forever on the threshold to eternity.  Besides, the Sopranos is on soon.  Answer: Do you wish to know your question, the question that will shape your life forevermore?”

 

I gulped, and while my voice wavered it was strong as I answered again:  “Yes, master, I wish to know the question.”

 

“Very well, then.  The choice has been made, and your fate is sealed.  Your question is …”

 

“Yes?”

 

“What is the sound of one coder hacking?” 

 

And zenkat is my current best answer to that question.