It’s a very little known fact that the Temple had indeed, a chorus of singing monks. Master Bawan never failed to show up during the practices, but never sang a note.
Master Kaimu noticed that and came one evening. After the lesson, he confronted: “It seems you never sing at the lessons, brother.”
“Indeed I am not,” smiled Bawan.
“But this poor soul sometimes wish to sleep and as your quarters’ neighbour, quite often his meditations are troubled with the most unpleasant shrieks someone with imagination might call singing,” reproached Kaimu.
“Indeed I am,” smiled Bawan.
“Explain, then,” growled Kaimu, “why you keep your lips shut where it is clearly the place and time to sing, and why you keep hurting my ears when it’s not appropriate.”
“These are my project management lessons,” explained Bawan. “I like to see how people work in unison, and how to fix disonance by subtle directing.”
Kaimu’s reply went sharp: “And your singing practice at night?”
“Whoever wishes to get better at anything must try new things. You must be willing to fail, and give it full effort nonetheless. Avoiding being judged during that process helps a lot.”
“You still haven’t answered,” said Kaimu, “why singing of all hobbies?”
“When you practice and experiment,” quizzed Bawan patiently, “why choose something you’re already good at?”