The Mouse and the Elephant

**Summary:** A meditator complains about a restless mind and is taught that discursive thoughts are like an elephant, while he is only a mouse, requiring skillful patience to tame them.

On a morning in a small meditation hall on the city's outskirts, the early sunlight slipped through the window frames, casting long stripes of light on the cold, tiled floor. The silence was so profound that only the steady breathing of more than thirty practitioners sitting in meditation could be heard. In the midst of this quiet, a man in his forties, his face slightly twisted from the pain in his legs, slowly opened his eyes. He looked around and then lowered his head, as if hiding something he found difficult to express.

For three months now, he had been participating in the weekend meditation retreats. He listened to the lectures, took notes, and diligently sat in meditation for fifteen minutes every morning before work. But the more he sat, the more uneasy he felt. His mind was like a broken market, with one thought following another: work problems, family matters, endless worries. He had once thought that simply sitting still would bring peace, but the harder he tried to suppress his thoughts, the more they surged. Many nights, he tossed and turned, wondering, "Perhaps meditation isn't for me?"

During the break, he went to find the teacher, who was standing by the temple porch, gently rolling a mala in his hand. He pressed his palms together, his voice full of sadness:

"Venerable teacher, I have been practicing meditation for months, but my mind is still so restless. When I sit, it just wanders in all directions, and I cannot make it stop. What should I do?"

The teacher looked at him, smiled kindly, and then said something that startled him:

"Do not engage with it. Do not engage with the discursive thoughts."

The man was taken aback, not understanding. "What? How can I practice if I don't engage?"

The teacher explained slowly, his voice deep and warm:

"Your discursive thoughts are like a great elephant, and you are just a small mouse. If you charge in to fight it, one stomp from the elephant will crush you instantly. So what should you do? To be a wise mouse, you must sneak into the elephant's ear to live. This means you must have a patient, long-term, and balanced method. Do not try to suppress, do not follow, and do not resist. Simply observe with gentleness, and slowly you will gain mastery over your own mind."

He sat listening silently, as if a ray of light had sparked within his heart. He suddenly recalled his meditation sessions: whenever his mind became agitated, he would grow impatient, desperately trying to suppress it, only to become more frustrated and more scattered. It turned out he had been doing the opposite. He thought he had to fight his thoughts, but in truth, he only needed to recognize them and let them pass.

From that day on, he changed the way he sat. Whenever his mind began to wander, he no longer pulled it back abruptly. Instead, he gently noted, "Ah, thinking again," and returned to his breath. The first days were still difficult, but gradually, he felt his mind becoming less turbulent. During his sits, he began to experience rare moments of tranquility, even if just for a few short minutes.

Three months later, he met the teacher again, his face noticeably brighter:

"Venerable teacher, I understand now. I am no longer afraid of discursive thoughts. I let them come and go; I just need to recognize them and return to the breath."

The teacher nodded, his eyes pleased:

"That is correct. The day you master your mind, when you can stop thinking at will, each hour of sitting will be an hour of happiness. But that day does not come easily. It requires a combination of aspects: qigong for physical health, inner ethics to purify the mind, and merit to cultivate a selfless life. All three are equally important."

The man pressed his palms together in gratitude, filled with trust. He knew the path ahead was still long, but now he possessed the key to open the door of his mind. He was no longer a frightened mouse facing the elephant of discursive thoughts, but a patient practitioner, taking one step at a time, mastering himself.

**The Meaning of the Story**

The lesson that Venerable Thích Chân Quang wishes to impart: Our discursive thoughts are very powerful. If we try to suppress or fight them, we only grow more weary. Instead, we should observe them with patience and skillfulness, and practice letting go. Meditation is not a battle, but a long-term training that combines qigong, ethics, and merit to achieve tranquility and wisdom.

*Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thích Chân Quang*