The First Blossom of Love

Every morning, I wake up and open the window to look down at the city. Below, the streets are already bustling with noise. Roofs press closely together, vehicles weave through traffic like threads in a loom, and crowds of people fill every space. Have you ever paused to ask yourself, amidst that sea of humanity, how many people do you truly love? Or do you find your heart cold and indifferent?

I used to feel exactly that way. Especially during the early days of the new year, when everyone cheerfully asked each other if they had enjoyed the holidays, I would only smile politely to pass the time. How could I be happy when old scratches remained on my heart, and hopes had turned into disappointment? My teacher often taught: "Life naturally brings us much sadness. People we love change, what we wait for does not arrive, and hope becomes despair. But those who practice the Dharma resolutely have no reason for sadness. They become happier day by day because of the good deeds they perform and the compassion they offer."

One late afternoon near the end of the year, I visited the temple. It was crowded, with people jostling for seats to listen to the teaching. I squeezed into a corner, my eyes scanning over unfamiliar faces. Suddenly, the teacher paused his lecture and asked, "Now, try turning around to look at everyone here. Does your heart hold any love?"

I froze. Turning back and forth, my eyes met all kinds of faces: an elderly woman leaning on a cane, a young man absorbed in his phone, a sleepy child resting against their mother’s chest... And within me? There was only chill. Not a single spark of warmth rose up.

"Oh," I realized with a start, "I do not love anyone yet. Yet the Buddha teaches us to extend our hearts in love toward all beings."

The teacher continued, as if reading my inner thoughts: "Loving is a whole process of silent battle within the mind. You must force yourself; you must command yourself. Sitting here, looking at everyone, let this intention arise in your heart: 'May my heart love all.' Repeat it again and again, speak it silently over and over. This is self-suggestion."

From that day on, I began to practice. Each morning, instead of looking out at the city with indifference, I opened my eyes, looked at the roofs below, and told myself: "May my heart love all sentient beings." Each evening, before sleep, I forced my heart to rise with feelings of love, even though they were still cold.

Many times, many times, but the flower of love had not yet bloomed. There were moments when I grew frustrated and wondered, "Will it ever truly come?"

Then, one spring morning, I walked through the temple gate. I saw the entire courtyard filled with people, hands pressed together in reverence, mouths chanting the Buddha’s name. Suddenly, from somewhere unknown, a surge of loving kindness welled up inside me—warm and intense. I stood still, my eyes stinging with tears. "Here it is," I thought silently. "This is love. It has bloomed."

I did not tell anyone. But from that day forward, when I stepped onto the street and saw the pushing crowds and rushing cars, I smiled and felt love welling up in my heart. In the mornings on my apartment balcony, looking down at the busy life below, I made the vow to live forever in love for all beings.

The teacher said: "Even the saints practiced this way. When they ascend to heavenly realms and look down upon the densely populated human world, their hearts are still filled with boundless love. They became saints because the love within them grew larger and covered everything. But the very beginning was just one moment when they stepped through the temple gate and suddenly felt love rise in their hearts. That was the first bud of compassion opening."

I understood then. Love is not something that comes naturally. It is the result of a difficult process of training, sometimes requiring us to force ourselves. And once it has bloomed, it gains momentum, continuing to grow until one day we can live beautifully—with love, kindness, and sharing.

The Meaning of the Story

This story shows that true love is not an innate instinct, but a sacred quality that must be learned, trained, and cultivated. This process demands continuous inner effort, sometimes forcing oneself to repeat the vow of love again and again, until that emotion truly blooms in the heart. Only when the first bud of compassion opens can we live beautifully—with love, kindness, and sharing—and above all, practice the Dharma to live fully, and live fully to practice the Dharma.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thich Chan Quang