What are you carrying?

NOW

The ever present moment of now it the only time we have. This is important to remember, and you won’t ever be able remember it. It’s a paradox. It’s Zen, which reminds me of a story about two monks.
Eraserhead and Zip were young monks at the inner city monastery. The master asked them to drive the van over to the other side of town and pick up a load of rice cakes. Only thing was, outside it was raining cats and dogs. It was a long drive and Eraserhead didn’t like taking the freeway because he got flashbacks. So they took a route through town. Zip didn’t care, it gave him more time to study, recite, and pray.
Halfway back with the van stuffed full of rice cakes, the rain, sleet, and hail got so heavy you could hear cats barking. Eraserhead stopped at a light and wiped his hand on the steamed up window.
“Gimme something to wipe off this window.”
“Maybe we should call the master.”
“Gimme the edge of your robe.”
“No!”
“Come on squirt. The master wants these rice cakes.”
“Use your own robe!”
“Hey!” Eraserhead pointed, “On the curb,” he yelled, “what’s that!?”
A shapely young girl with her body showing through her drenched clothes hitchhiked at the light. Eraserhead jumped out of the van, opened the door, and shoved her on top of Zip.
“What!” cried Zip.
“Where you headed?” Eraserhead asked as he got back in.
“Anywhere dry,” the young girl replied. “Couple blocks, Sally.”
Zip fidgeted and blushed and looked up at the girl in his lap. “Your name’s Sally?”
“No. Jill. I’m headed to the Salvation Army. You know, the Sally. There it is! Here. Let me off here.”
After they left her off, Zip looked at his wet rob and steaming crouch where Jill had been sitting. He berated Eraserhead.
“You know we’re not supposed to get near women. Look what you made me do. I just can’t believe it. I touched a women. I touched a women!”
They drove on through the rain for a few moments. Eraserhead turned to Zip.
“We picked her up and dropped her off back there. You’re still carrying her.”