The koan about Zen master Joshu meeting two hermits goes like this:
Joshu came upon a hermit’s hut. He leaned in and called,
“Anyone here? Anyone here?” The hermit raised his fist. Joshu said, “The water is too shallow to anchor here” and went away. He then came upon another hermit’s hut, where again he called out, “Anyone here? Anyone here?” This hermit, too, raised his fist. Joshu said, “Free to give, free to kill, free to save,” and he made a deep bow.
So what is the point? There are many commentaries on this koan, none definitive. We can say that we know nothing about the respective merits of the two hermits, no clue to suggest that one deserves to be called shallow and the other is worthy of a bow. I think (tentatively, of course) that it tells us more about Joshu, his realization that he can pass judgment arbitrarily (“free to give” etc.). This realization can be used by us arbitrarily, and hence without significance on what is reality. Hence he bows, having discovered it through the particular person in front of him, though who it is would not have mattered. Joshu must find what it is that enlightens or empowers he himself. Perhaps his bow is a form of repentance for realizing what he had not articulated to himself before. Or perhaps it is an absurd game of the hen looking for a place to lay its egg. It does not matter where, only to just do it.
Joshu commends the eremitical life either way: sometimes we are too shallow, and sometimes we are worthy. Only, let us not be the one to decide. If Joshu were to see us right now, which comment would he give us? And, frankly, wouldn’t either one be correct?