The Secret of a Lifetime of Practice

Midday sunlight filtered through the pomelo leaves, casting dancing patches of light on the temple’s brick courtyard. In a small office, a disciple was sorting through files when his phone rang. He answered to hear his brother’s voice on the other end, urgent and full of hope.

"Brother, can you let my child join the summer ethics course? The one taught by our teacher," his brother asked.

"Yes, just send him over," the disciple replied briefly. But inside, he felt something different. As soon as he hung up, a warm, surging emotion rose within him. He imagined his nephew’s small face, his mischievous posture, and his innocent eyes. Naturally, he felt compelled to care for the boy. He thought about arranging the best bedroom, instructing the kitchen to cook the child’s favorite dishes, and closely monitoring his studies. These thoughts rushed in, as natural as breathing, without any need for instruction.

That evening, after the dharma talk, the disciple sought out his teacher. In the quiet space, lit only by a flickering oil lamp and scented with faint incense smoke, he spoke: "Teacher, I usually believe I have no attachment to my family. But today, my brother called, asking me to arrange for his son to attend the summer course. Immediately, a wave of worry and favoritism surged in my heart. I wonder where this emotion comes from. It is so strong, rising uncontrollably."

The teacher looked at him with calm eyes. "That emotion is the natural instinct humans feel toward blood relatives. For laypeople, loving family, spouse, children, parents, and grandchildren is considered moral virtue. Society praises such love, viewing it as living well, being filial, and caring deeply. However, when one enters the path of renunciation, all these sentiments become obstacles. They are forms of bias and narrowness. A monastic must transcend these feelings to love all sentient beings equally."

Hearing this, the disciple felt something break open within him. It was a harsh truth, yet brilliantly clear. What society calls noble morality becomes the greatest barrier on the path of practice. "Teacher, to see this clearly, does one need..." he hesitated.

"It requires those of superior capacity and wisdom," the teacher continued in a low voice. "One must see the true nature of life as suffering (dukkha). Only when you clearly perceive the Truth of Suffering will you crave liberation. Anyone can say, 'I practice for liberation,' but truly understanding the word 'liberation' is rare. It takes great spiritual roots, cultivated over many lifetimes, to see this reversal of perspective. An instinctual love for family, once praised as morality, must now be recognized as an obstacle to spiritual progress."

The disciple sat in silence. Outside, crickets began their chorus. He thought of his nephew, his brother’s family, and all his blood relatives. That love remained intact and warm. But from now on, when he saw it, he would know that behind the warmth lay an invisible thread binding him to samsara (cycle of rebirth) and the sea of suffering. Recognizing this was not to extinguish love, but to transform it, expanding it into a vast, impartial compassion for all sentient beings.

He clasped his hands in gratitude to the teacher and stepped out of the room. The moon had risen high, illuminating the small path leading back to his meditation hut. His steps slowed, feeling both lighter and heavier. Lighter because he had found the guiding light. Heavier because he knew the road ahead was long. With each step, he must remember not to stray into the forest of wrong views. He must remain humble and maintain right intention, building a holy and virtuous mind, ready for the journey of liberation and saving others.

The Meaning of the Story

This story emphasizes that to practice correctly and achieve enlightenment, a practitioner needs a "reversed" view of life’s nature and conventional moral values. Attachments to family, though honored by society as morality, are obstacles on the path that must be recognized and transformed. Only those of superior capacity with deep wisdom can see this, as it requires recognizing the inherent suffering of human existence and possessing an intense longing for true liberation.

Compiled from the dharma talk by Venerable Thich Chan Quang