The Secret of the Other Shore

The forest was so still that one could hear dry leaves falling to the earth. Under the bright moonlight, a figure emerged from behind the dense canopy. This was not a terrifying monster with fangs or bulging eyes, as folk tales often describe. Instead, it was an incredibly beautiful form, more radiant and alluring than any famous singer of today. The figure approached the Buddha, speaking in a sweet voice that concealed a deep scheme.

"Venerable Sir, you often teach your disciples to cross to the other shore. But ultimately, what does 'the other shore' mean?"

The Buddha looked directly into the stranger’s eyes, his mind clear like a lake without ripples. He knew this was Mara, who always sought to test and disturb the minds of practitioners. Mara had prepared a subtle trap: if the Buddha defined "the other shore" as a specific place or a transcendent realm separate from this world, Mara would immediately argue that both riverbanks were just mud and reeds, no different at all. Or if the Buddha remained silent, Mara would claim his teachings were vague and baseless.

But the Buddha did not hesitate. He smiled gently, dismantling every trap with an answer that went straight to the essence of liberation.

"Mara, there is no this shore, nor is there an other shore. Only when you are free from suffering and have ended all bindings of afflictions (kleshas) will I call you a Brahmin."

That statement was like a sharp sword cutting through all dualistic thinking. Mara stood frozen, unable to offer any rebuttal. In ancient India, crossing the Ganges River was a terrifying feat. The currents were swift, there were no bridges, and people had to use bamboo rafts layered dozens of times thick, pushing through each meter of water amidst the violent flow. Every time someone successfully stepped onto the opposite bank, they shouted in victory: "I have crossed to the other shore!" Thus, "the other shore" became an idiom implying the completion of an extremely difficult task.

However, the Buddha elevated this concept. He did not deny the effort of crossing the river, but he pointed out that the final destination lay not in geography or religious formality. Many mistakenly thought "Paramita" was a mystical magic or blind sacrifice. Some believed the perfection of generosity meant giving away everything, even if the recipient did not know how to use it, leading to waste or harm. Others thought the perfection of patience meant passive endurance, allowing evil to grow bolder and harm many others.

In reality, Paramita requires clear wisdom. Proper generosity means giving to the right person to create long-term benefit. True patience means having no hatred in the heart, yet maintaining a firm attitude to stop evil and protect the community, much like a state imprisoning dangerous criminals not out of hatred, but out of social responsibility. When we understand this, we see the difference between someone fleeing out of fear and an enlightened being acting out of wisdom.

**The Meaning of the Story**

The verse "No this shore, no other shore" reminds us that language and religious concepts are merely skillful means for opening understanding, not absolute truths. Do not cling to forms, names, or rigid definitions. True liberation does not lie in seeking some distant place, but in the inner state where one has let go of suffering (dukkha), afflictions (kleshas), and all bindings of greed, hatred and delusion. Use wisdom to distinguish between weakness and tolerance, between superstition and right view, so that you may walk steadily on the path of the Dharma.

Compiled from the dharma talk by Most Venerable Thich Chan Quang