Shadows by the Lotus Lake

That night, a cold wind swept through the ancient trees within the grounds of Dai Tung Lam Temple, carrying the damp mist from the still surface of the lotus lake. A young moon hung suspended in the deep black sky, casting its light upon the lotus petals that had closed after a long day. The space was so quiet that one could only hear the rhythmic chirping of insects and the gentle footsteps of a young monk on his patrol.

This monk, who at that time was still a novice, had grown accustomed to the wildness and silence of the temple. The land was vast, people were few, and a handful of teachers lived in secluded practice amidst majestic nature. His nightly duty was to walk a circle from the main hall, cross the lakeshore to check for security, and then return home. That night, standing by the lake, his eyes inadvertently turned toward the tall statue of the bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara placed in the distance, illuminated by the hazy moonlight.

Suddenly, an icy chill ran down his spine, causing him to stop in his tracks. His heart pounded, not out of extreme fear, but because of an indescribable awe. In his line of sight, right beside the majestic silhouette of the Buddha statue, he glimpsed a strange figure. It was a human shadow, yet it had no head, gliding past slowly and gracefully. He held his breath, trying to look more closely, but the shadow dissolved into the darkness as if it had never existed. With trembling hands gripping the edge of his robe, he wondered whether he was dreaming or truly witnessing something beyond ordinary explanation.

On another occasion, in a similar setting, a different monk passing through the dense forest saw a figure standing firmly, towering all the way up to the treetops. The form was so large that it obscured the stars, reminiscent of the Heavenly Guardians described in the scriptures. When the two monks met the following morning, they recounted their nighttime experiences with pensive expressions. No one laughed, nor did anyone deny it. They believed that here, even in this pure place of spiritual practice, beings from other realms always exist—divine beings with gigantic physical forms, far surpassing those of ordinary humans.

These stories are not intended to cause fear, but serve as vivid evidence for the first characteristic of divine beings compared to humans: size. While humans stand only about a meter and a half tall, devas in higher heavenly realms may have bodies as large as Mount Sumeru. This difference is not fiction, but a cosmic reality that the limited wisdom of humans can hardly fully comprehend. If our wisdom were vast enough, seeing such magnificent forms would become normal, just as we see an elephant compared to an ant.

The Meaning of the Story

The story emphasizes that divine beings are a superior species to humans in many aspects, including physical size. The ability of humans to imagine species higher than themselves (divine beings) is a manifestation of intelligence. However, due to limited blessings from merit and wisdom, humans sometimes only perceive their presence through intuitive experiences or folk beliefs, rather than fully understanding the essence of these realms.

Compiled from the dharma talk of Most Venerable Thich Chan Quang