silentscribe
The old Zen monk sighed. The lesson of the day was the hardest to teach to young monks. Control. Not just self-discipline, but control in its pure form, where rules and regulations and standards become irrelevant, and the student becomes one with their practice. At that point, it is unnecessary to impose external conditions, for the changes have become internalized. The path to this state of being was long and steep however, and it was for this reason that the old monk sighed. He bowed to his students.