A story told about the Zen master Hakuin (say "hah-koo-een") begins with his neighbors praising his pure life. When a girl becomes pregnant and, pressed by her parents, names Hakuin as the father, they storm in. Hakuin doesn't argue. "Is that so?" is all he says. The child is brought to him, his reputation disappears, and he takes very good care of the baby, getting milk from the neighbors. A year later the girl admits that the father was a young man from the fish market. Her parents return, apologize, and ask for the child back. Hakuin hands the child over with the same answer. Notice where his year goes: not into clearing his name, into milk. Somebody's opinion of you will shift today, a relative's, a neighbor's, a stranger's in traffic, and shift back without you moving. Let it, the way he did, and give the hour to whatever actually needs you: the kid, the dinner, the call you owe.