The Curtain Drawn Back

The ancient temple lay in stillness amid a forest of pines, where only the murmuring wind and the occasional call of forest birds drifted through the air. In a small room, beside a wooden window frame darkened to a deep brown, a meditation master sat in the lotus posture, his back straight, his hands resting gently on his thighs. The room held only a thin white curtain, swaying softly in the light breeze. In that quiet space, the master's even breathing blended with the distant tolling of the temple bell, creating an atmosphere of purity that felt almost otherworldly.

This meditation master had practiced for many years, chanting sutras day after day, sitting in meditation, and contemplating the words of the Buddha. Yet one line from the Lotus Sutra kept stirring within him: "Good men and good women, with nothing more than the flesh-born eyes given by their parents, can see throughout the three thousand great thousand worlds." He read it over and over, pondering it without end, and still he could not fathom it. How could an ordinary, limited eye—one that could only see a few hundred meters ahead—possibly behold a world so vast and boundless? The question hovered in his mind like a knot that could not be untied.

One morning, after sitting in meditation for a long while, his mind grew still, like the surface of a lake without a single ripple. He rose and walked gently toward the window. His hand slowly drew back the thin white curtain. Morning sunlight poured in, filling the entire room with light.

In that moment, a wondrous feeling washed over his heart. He suddenly realized that his mind was no longer confined to this small, narrow room. It seemed to be spreading outward, merging with the sunlight, with the open space, with the very earth and sky beyond. He saw that every object, every person, every sound existed right within his own mind—nothing lay outside of it.

Tears burst forth and streamed down his cheeks, and then a smile blossomed. He had awakened to great enlightenment.

"The flesh-born eyes given by parents can still see the three thousand great thousand worlds"—now he understood. It is not the physical eye that sees, but the pure mind itself. When the mind reaches the point where it is no longer limited by this body, by this room, it can embrace all things. It is like when we sit in a room and our mind stays trapped inside our head, churning over petty concerns. But when the mind becomes pure, it slowly expands—filling the room, then passing beyond the walls, until it embraces the whole of earth and sky.

The meditation master remembered the Buddha's teaching on humility. Even though he had realized this truth, he knew it was only one small step along the path to enlightenment. Truth is boundless, and what he knew was like a handful of leaves held in his palm compared to all the leaves in the forest. He silently reminded himself never to give rise to pride, never to imagine that he had cultivated deeply or attained some great realization. For a single thought of self-satisfaction is enough for merit to vanish like morning dew meeting the sun.

From that day on, the meditation master lived a life of serenity and humility, no longer clinging to any words or forms. He no longer felt proud of chanting the Lotus Sutra, nor did he look down on other dharma gates. He simply practiced quietly, spreading compassion and wisdom to all those around him. When disciples came asking to learn from him, he would only smile, his kind gaze like a stream of cool water, and they would feel a deep peace arise. His small room remained just as it was, the white curtain still drifting gently in the breeze, but his mind had changed—open like the vast sky, serene as the great ocean.

The Meaning of the Story

The story of the meditation master who drew back the curtain and awakened to great enlightenment reminds us that the flesh-born eyes given by our parents can indeed see the three thousand great thousand worlds—not through physical power, but through the pure mind. As long as the mind remains confined within this small body, we remain ordinary beings. But when the mind becomes pure, it will embrace all things and penetrate the truth.

For this reason, let us not hurry to feel proud of chanting sutras or listening to the teachings. Instead, let us always keep a humble heart, knowing that truth remains boundless and our practice is still very small. Only humility and unceasing diligence can carry us closer to enlightenment.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Senior Venerable Thich Chan Quang.