← Stories

The Wings of a Bird Flying in Opposite Directions

A Buddhist disciple struggles with the contradiction between staying silent to cultivate himself and speaking out to teach others, until he understands the principle of "speaking as if silent, and being silent as if speaking."

The temple courtyard was quiet in the afternoon. A disciple sat alone beneath the bodhi tree, his eyes gazing up at the deep blue sky, yet his heart was tangled like dark clouds churning within. He had just heard a teaching about two paths: self-cultivation and helping others awaken. Why did these two paths seem to contradict each other so deeply?

He remembered his teacher's words: to cultivate oneself, one needs silence, humility, and few words. As the Zen masters taught: "You must let the corners of your mouth grow moss like a tree fanned by the winter wind." Silence is the sign of a still mind and of progress in practice. But to teach sentient beings, one must speak, must share the Buddha's teachings (Dharma). If one remains completely silent, how will anyone know what the Dharma is?

He recalled a story told by the venerable monk who led the temple's affairs: there was once an old master who had practiced his whole life, and to everyone he met, he only smiled. Yet when he did speak, every word was sharp enough to "kill." He was the embodiment of "being silent as if speaking" — silent yet full of power, like thunder and lightning.

Suddenly the disciple understood the fundamental contradiction: to cultivate well, one must be silent, but to teach, one must speak. And the mouth is only one — it cannot be closed for practice and open for speaking at the same time. Many people choose one side: either complete silence, or talking too much. Both are wrong.

Then he remembered his teacher's words about "speaking as if silent." This is when one presents the Dharma without any trace of ego. One may speak of the Four Noble Truths and the Noble Eightfold Path, yet never exalt oneself. One may speak much, yet still appear humble and reverent. That is "speaking as if silent."

And "being silent as if speaking" is when one's silence is like the surface of a calm lake, yet it draws people in with great power. With a smile or a single glance, such a person can shake us to the depths of our heart, as if we had heard countless words. That is "being silent as if speaking."

He smiled, and his heart felt light. The two paths run in opposite directions, yet they are like the wings of a bird: they lie on opposite sides, but together they lift the bird to soar across the sky. Self-cultivation and helping others awaken, silence and speaking out — these must be harmonized through wisdom and a heart of compassion.

He rose and walked toward the monks' hall. The path of practice is still long, but he had found his direction. To harmonize two opposites is the path of the bodhisattva, the way to attain perfect and complete awakening.

The Meaning of the Story

This story reveals the fundamental contradiction that every Buddhist disciple must face: the balance between silence for practice and speaking out to teach sentient beings. The core lesson is that these two must be harmonized, like the wings of a bird. "Speaking as if silent" is speaking without any trace of ego, with humility and reverence. "Being silent as if speaking" is remaining silent while still conveying the power of compassion and wisdom. This is the quality needed to attain perfect and complete awakening.

Compiled from a dharma talk by the Venerable Thích Chân Quang

AI-assisted translation from the Vietnamese original.

Read in Vietnamese →