The Raft Across the River

A story about the meditation journey of a person of modest capacity, guided by a good spiritual friend, who used right thinking to replace wrong thinking, and finally let go of even the true Dharma to enter meditative concentration.

As the sound of the temple bell faded, the scent of warm agarwood still lingered in the meditation hall. A middle-aged man sat in the corner of the room, his hands resting on his knees, his back slightly hunched. He tried to keep his body upright, but his brow kept furrowing, and beads of sweat gathered on his forehead. He took a deep breath in, then breathed out, trying to count from one to five. But before he reached three, a thought flashed through his mind: "Yesterday I forgot to reply to my boss's email. I'll surely be reminded about it tomorrow." And just like that, the breath was gone, and he sank back into a tangle of scattered thoughts.

He had been coming to this temple for three months, ever since he heard a dharma talk about meditative concentration. He dreamed of sitting in meditation, of entering concentration, of liberation. He bought many books, reading about the four absorptions, about the miraculous powers of the noble ones, about supreme enlightenment. He imagined he would soon attain these things, that simply by sitting down, his mind would grow as still as an autumn lake. But the truth was harsh: every time he sat in meditation, his mind was like a monkey swinging from branch to branch, thinking of one thing after another. Those thoughts were often mistaken, crude, malicious, or simply unnecessary. He could not hold his breath for more than five counts. He sat with a heart full of frustration and aching limbs, wanting only to end the session immediately.

One day, after a meditation session, he shuffled out of the hall looking dejected. An elderly meditation companion, who had guided him since his first days, gently came to his side and asked, "Brother, how was your sitting today?" He sighed and shook his head. "Terrible! The moment I sit down, distracting thoughts come flooding in. I can't hold my breath at all. I feel I'm not making any progress." The meditation companion smiled kindly and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't be discouraged. You are at the beginning stage, with modest capacities. What matters is not letting wrong thinking lead you. Practice replacing bad thoughts with good ones."

Surprised, he asked, "But I heard that one must watch the breath, contemplate impermanence (anicca), and enter concentration?" The meditation companion explained patiently, "Those are distant goals. But for a beginner like you, don't rush toward entering concentration. Start with something small: each time you sit, set your intention on three things—absolute reverence for the Buddha, boundless love for all sentient beings, and keeping the mind/heart utterly humble. Repeat these over and over, instead of letting the mind chase after pointless matters."

Hearing this, the man felt a flicker of doubt. He thought, "I came here to learn meditation, to enter concentration. Why am I told to simply think good thoughts? That isn't meditation, is it?" But out of respect for the meditation companion, he nodded and followed the advice. The next day, as he sat, he tried to set his intention: "May my heart hold absolute reverence for the Buddha. May my heart hold boundless love for all sentient beings. May I keep my mind/heart utterly humble." But after only a few minutes, the old thoughts came rushing back. He thought about being scolded by his boss, about the unpaid electricity bill, about a friend who had spoken ill of him. He felt utterly useless, unable to hold even a few simple thoughts.

Seeing his discouragement, the meditation companion came close again and encouraged him, "Don't lose heart. A practitioner like you must persevere. Remember the Buddha's words: 'Even the true Dharma must be abandoned, let alone what is not the Dharma.' But don't misunderstand and abandon everything. The true Dharma here is right thinking—the raft used to cross the river. What is not the Dharma is wrong thinking: mistaken, crude, malicious, unnecessary thoughts. Use right thinking to replace wrong thinking, just as one uses a raft to cross the river."

He reflected deeply on this teaching. He realized he had been too greedy, longing for lofty attainments while forgetting that he had only just begun. He resolved to change the way he practiced. Each day, he diligently bowed to the Buddha, practiced repentance, did good deeds, and reminded himself to set his intention on five kinds of right thinking: reverence for the Buddha, compassion, humility, contemplating impermanence (anicca), and contemplating the body and mind/heart as a mass of wrongdoing. He also sought out books on cause and effect (karmic law), learning to reason about karma to replace his bad thoughts. Gradually, he found his mind growing less turbulent. The bad thoughts no longer appeared as often as before. He began to sense his own breath, even if only for a few short minutes.

One day, while sitting in meditation, he suddenly realized something: he no longer needed to force his intention. Reverence for the Buddha, love for sentient beings, and humility had become part of who he was. He no longer needed to think about them; they naturally appeared in his every action, every word. He found himself loving others naturally, without needing to say it. He found himself humble, no longer proud as before. And when he was able to let go of his thoughts—even the good ones—his mind/heart suddenly became light and unusually still. His breath grew deep and rhythmic, and he felt a sense of purity gradually arising within his soul.

From then on, his life changed completely. He was no longer tormented by negative thoughts. He was grateful to the meditation companion who had guided and taught him so devotedly. He understood that to reach the far shore, one must use the raft of the true Dharma, but once arrived, one must know to release the raft and step onto the shore. That letting go is not abandoning the Buddha's teachings (Dharma), but allowing those beautiful qualities to soak deep into the soul and become one's very nature. He continued to sit in meditation every day, but no longer craved entering concentration. He simply quietly followed his breath, letting his mind/heart rest in the present moment, and felt a sense of peace growing with each breath.

The Meaning of the Story

This story reminds us that meditation is not achieved overnight. Each person has different capacities, and we must know where we stand in order to practice correctly. Beginners with modest capacities should not rush to dream of entering concentration, but must use right thinking to replace wrong thinking, transforming bad thoughts into good ones. When right thinking has become skillful and part of one's nature, one must then let go of even those thoughts so the mind/heart can rest, and only then can one advance further on the path of meditative concentration. Never abandon those who are new to practice. Be a good spiritual friend who guides them, like a raft carrying people across the river.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thích Chân Quang.