Three Conditions for Seeing the Sun

An illustration of why the Buddha is hard to see, comparing it to a blind person, a person facing away, or someone locked inside a glass cellar who cannot see the sun even though it never stops shining.

During an early spring dharma talk on the question "Why is the Buddha so hard to see?", the Venerable abbot offered an extraordinarily vivid example that left the entire assembly in deep reflection. He did not venture into abstract metaphysical concepts, but instead guided listeners back to the simplest sensory experiences of human life.

Picture the scene: afternoon sunlight slanting through the tree canopies onto the temple courtyard. A middle-aged man rose with a look of confusion and asked:

"Venerable sir, I have followed the Buddha for a long time. I recite sutras and chant the Buddha's name regularly, yet I have never once seen the Buddha. I see only statues of wood and stone. Does the Buddha not exist, or is he simply too far away?"

The Venerable smiled, his gaze gentle yet penetrating. He did not answer at once, but asked in return:

"Good friend, does the sun ever stop shining?"

"No, Venerable. The sun shines always."

"Then why are there people who cannot see the sun?"

The man pondered a moment, then replied:

"Perhaps because the sky is overcast, or because they are standing in the dark?"

The Venerable nodded, then began to analyze three specific cases, each one a metaphor for the spiritual condition of a human being.

First: The blind person.

The sun may blaze brilliantly outside, but a blind person can never see it. Why? Because their eyes are damaged. On the Buddhist path, these "eyes" are wisdom. If we refuse to practice and cultivate wisdom, if our mind/heart remains sealed shut and shrouded in delusion, then even if the Buddha were present everywhere, we would be unable to recognize him. We are "blind" because we lack the ability to see through to the true nature of things.

Second: The person who faces away.

Imagine someone standing under the blazing sun yet turning their face toward a wall, or turning their back completely to where the sun rises. No matter how fiercely the sun burns, the space behind that person remains pitch dark. This is the image of those who live surrounded by the Buddha's teachings (Dharma) while their hearts turn toward fame and profit, toward craving, or toward stubborn attachment to wrong views. Because they have "turned their backs" on the true Dharma, the light of compassion and wisdom cannot shine into their hearts.

Third: The person locked in a glass cellar.

A sealed room with no windows, or one enclosed by layers of frosted, clouded glass that block the light from entering. A person inside such a room cannot see the sun, not because the sun has gone out, but because they are imprisoned in ignorance and karmic obstacles. Persistent afflictions (kleshas), along with greed, hatred and delusion, stand like thick walls obscuring our vision. We are "locked away" in our selfish ego, in rigid preconceptions, and so we cannot connect with the pure energy of the universe.

The Venerable concluded in a voice deep, warm, and resolute:

"The Buddha is always there, just as the sun always shines. The question is not whether the Buddha exists, but rather this: Are you blind? Are you facing away? Or are you imprisoned in the glass cellar of your own karma? Do not demand, 'Buddha, appear before me.' Instead, ask yourself: 'What must I do so that my eyes may open and shine, so that I may turn my face toward the light, and so that I may break down the walls of ignorance that veil me?'"

The assembly sat in silence. The simple example of the sun had suddenly become a rigorous test of inner examination. Many realized that all this while they had blamed their circumstances, their fate, or the "distantness" of the divine, forgetting that they themselves were the ones who had covered their own eyes, turned their own backs, and built the walls that imprisoned them.

The Meaning of the Story

The core lesson is this: the presence of the Buddha, or of truth, is universal and continuous; it never departs. The "difficulty of seeing the Buddha" depends entirely on the inner conditions of the practitioner. To see the Buddha, we need to carry out three transformations within: first, to cultivate wisdom, curing the blindness; second, to turn the mind/heart toward the true Dharma and practice letting go of wrong views and craving, no longer facing away; third, to purify karmic obstacles and break through attachment and ignorance, shattering the glass cellar. When these three conditions are overcome, the light of enlightenment will naturally reveal itself, and there will be no need to search far and wide.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thích Chân Quang