A great master and a guardian shared the administration of a Zen monastery. One day the guardian died, and he had to be replaced.

The great master gathered all his disciples to choose who would have that honor. "I am going to present you with a problem," he said. "Whoever solves it first will be the new guardian of the temple." He brought a bench to the center of the room, placed on it a huge and beautiful porcelain vase with a beautiful red rose and said: "This is the problem."

The disciples looked perplexed at what they saw: the sophisticated and rare designs of the porcelain, the freshness and elegance of the flower... What did that represent? What to do? What was the enigma? They were all paralyzed. After a few minutes, one student stood up, looked at the master and the other disciples, walked towards the vase with determination and threw it to the floor.

“You are the new guardian,” the great master told him, and explained: “I was very clear, I told you that you were facing a problem.

No matter how beautiful and fascinating they are, problems have to be solved. It may be a very strange porcelain vase, a beautiful love that no longer makes sense, a path that we must abandon but that we insist on following because it brings us comfort.

There is only one way to deal with problems: to attack them head on. At such times we cannot have mercy, nor let ourselves be tempted by the fascinating side that any conflict brings with it.”

Problems have a strange effect on most of us: we like to contemplate them, analyze them, turn them around, comment on them… It often happens that we compare our problems with those of others and say: “Your problem is nothing… wait until I tell you mine!” This process of contemplation and inaction has been called “paralysis by analysis.” And the solution?