Several months ago I bought my oldest son a CreativeLabs Nomad Jukebox Zen Xtra mp3 player. Since then, It has been his constant companion. It goes with him everywhere. Friday, tragedy struck: it stopped working.
We tried the web support, emails back and forth, suggestions to download this, run “clean up” on the hard drive, install that, try reloading the operating system, and so on. Result: “Harddisk Problem”. Recommended solution: send it in for a new hard drive.
The warranty expired after three months—expensive gadget with an expensive repair bill.
This is where I entered into a deep Zen meditation. It took the form of a several hours long Internet research project.
I learned that these players use standard Laptop hard drives, I studied the different specifications for them, their different types of connectors, where to buy them, how to install them, what makes them work, how they function, their mechanical movements, their shock tolerances (much lower when running than not), which brands last longer than others. In short, I felt I was on the path of becoming a Zen Master.
Nearing the end of my meditations and study, I came across a discussion forum for Zen enthusiasts. There was a thread with someone experiencing the same malfunction as I. I read many posts, many suggestions, and became increasingly secure in my insight into the true nature of my hard drive and my need to replace it.
After studying several hours, in deep meditation of the Zen Xtra an its true nature, I came across the following post:
“It sounds like the head is stuck. You might be able to dislodge it by giving the Zen a firm whack on the side right after you turn it on. Some people have reported success after doing that.”
So, I did. I booted it and slapped it hard on the side. In so doing, the mp3 player was awakened, and my Zen meditation was complete.
I am deeply humbled by the wisdom of the True Zen Master quoted above.
After scolding my son for being careless and dropping his mp3 player too many times, I fear I must keep the Zen Master’s teachings secret, or I may have reason for regrets.
Such are the ways of Zen.