The Road That Belongs to No One

That evening, under the warm yellow lights of a newly built, still unfinished temple, the venerable teaching monk shared a personal experience that left the entire assembly listening in silence. He spoke of his journeys over ten years to Hanoi to teach the Dharma. Although he had set foot in the capital many times, passing through crowded streets and busy intersections, strangely enough, he could not remember a single road.

"Why is that?" he asked with a smile to the Buddhist practitioners. "Because every time I traveled north, I sat in a car driven by someone else. I only saw the scenery passing by, the tall buildings, the rows of trees along the road, but I did not know where this road was located, where it led, or which direction to take if I wanted to return. I was completely passive."

In contrast, when he was young in Saigon, he had to ride his own motorbike everywhere, taking care of all kinds of matters. Precisely because he held the handlebars himself, facing intersections and difficult stretches of road on his own, he knew every alley and every street corner by heart. The difference lies in this: "Only those who drive themselves truly know the road."

He immediately connected this to spiritual practice. There are Buddhists who have gone to the temple for ten years, listening to hundreds of hours of dharma talks, yet still have no merit and still do not know what the path is. They are like passengers riding in a car driven by someone else. Friends invite them: "Come to the temple with me today," "Please send my regards to the monk for me." They ask the monk to pray for their peace and to perform rites for the deceased on their behalf. They listen to teachings for pleasant entertainment, and sometimes they even play a recorded tape all night and fall asleep listening. But they have never taken the wheel themselves—that is, they have never practiced.

"You see," the monk emphasized, "hearing the Dharma is easy. As long as the teacher's voice is pleasant and our ears enjoy listening, we are done. But practice is a hard-fought battle with ourselves. It is when we strive to restrain our anger when insulted by others. It is when we make the effort of letting go of greed when we see a tempting gain before us. It is when we persist in chanting sutras and bowing to the Buddha every day, even when our bodies are exhausted."

A young Buddhist sitting in the front row had a face clearly marked by inner struggle. He thought to himself: "I have also gone to the temple for a long time, and I have listened to many teachings, so why is my mind still hot-tempered, still full of afflictions (kleshas)?" The teacher's answer struck straight at his heart: "Because you have not practiced. You have only been 'riding in a car' driven by someone else. You have never 'driven' the vehicle of your own mind/heart yourself."

The monk explained further that when someone who has not practiced speaks about the Dharma, their words remain on the tip of the tongue, lacking persuasive power, unable to move the listener. In contrast, for those who have matured and become skilled in the teachings through the process of battling with themselves, when they share, their words carry a powerful inner force that compels listeners to reflect and to act. That is the difference between someone who "knows the path" and someone who "possesses the path."

The Meaning of the Story

This story uses the metaphor of "driving a car" to highlight the importance of practice in spiritual cultivation. Hearing the Dharma and studying theory are only the beginning, like sitting and watching someone else drive. If we want to know the road, if we want to become proficient, we must take the wheel ourselves—that is, directly apply the teachings to our lives and battle our own bad habits and afflictions (kleshas). Only through serious practice can we accumulate merit, become mature in the Dharma, and give our words value and the power to guide others. Without practice, no matter how many years we go to the temple, we remain outsiders who have never touched the core of enlightenment.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thích Chân Quang