The Birds and the Fish

A monk asked, "What is the fact of my nature?"
The master said, "Shake the tree and the birds take to the air, startle the fish and the water becomes muddy."

—from The Recorded Sayings of Zen Master Joshu

Over the time I've pondered this poem, I've considered dozens of possible meanings. One of the more obvious ones is that things behave according to their nature. When the birds are startled, they take flight. When the fish are startled, their rapid movement muddies the water. At the same time, this instinctive reaction causes loss. The tree is now empty. The water is no longer transparent. But then is the problem with the birds and fish themselves, or is it with the one who startled them in the first place? Or is there any difference? Another thought...by taking flight, the birds reveal their presence (assuming the tree is covered in leaves or needles, anyway). Would it not be better to cling to the tree as it shakes and remain hidden? The fish hide themselves by muddying the water, but they also obscure their own path. Perhaps that is the message: our automatic reactions can either drive us from the path or hide it from us.