Feeling a little let down, I decided to write a my final paper on what seemed the most promising-Zen Buddhism. I was interested in how Zen monks influenced Western authors like Hesse and Kerouac and wondered if their conception was a diluted "westernized" version of the real stuff amongst misty mountains. I was also curious whether any of the subsequent Zen pop explosion in the West had filtered back and influenced the general understanding.
I enjoyed the research in the library and continued to read until the papers were just about due. Once I became aware of how poorly I had planned my time (I should have had at least a rough draft after the midpoint) I decided that there was no point in even trying to write it. I would just fail.
The day it was due, I actually handed him an eight page paper titled "The Influence of Zen Buddhist Thought in America." The last seven pages were blank. For now at least that is the story of my life.
I am humbled, restless, and pretty good company