← Stories

Two Joys

That evening, a man walked through the temple gate, his face still glowing with excitement. He sat down, slapped his thighs, and told his story to those nearby in a voice full of delight.

"Here's the latest! That guy badmouthed me, and I got so angry I cursed him out good and slapped him across the face! And he didn't dare talk back. I felt so satisfied!"

With that, he laughed out loud, his heart swelling with triumph.

A little later, another Buddhist devotee came in and sat down slowly. His face showed nothing bright or cheerful, yet his eyes were strangely peaceful.

Someone asked him, "Why do you look so happy? Did something good happen?"

The devotee smiled and told his story: "Earlier, an old man from near my house was furiously cursing at me. But I thought, he's old, maybe he's confused, maybe he misunderstood something. I held my patience and kept apologizing to him. The more he cursed, the more I apologized. Gradually, his anger faded away. Only then could I go home."

"Were you happy about it?" someone asked.

The devotee nodded. "Yes, I was happy. Happy that I could practice patience. Happy that I could show respect to an elderly person in his anger. I just kept pleading gently, doing my best until his anger passed. Then everything dissolved, and we were both at peace. Those fifteen minutes of restraint were well worth it."

These two stories may seem simple, but they contain a profound philosophy about the difference between "the joy of ordinary people" and "the joy of the noble ones."

The first joy — the thrill of cursing someone, striking someone, making others fear you — is the joy of ordinary people. It satisfies the ego, but it makes our mind increasingly turbulent and arrogant, and it creates more bad karma.

The second joy — the peace that comes after practicing patience, after forgiving, after making peace — is the joy of the noble ones. The Buddha's teachings (Dharma) call this "an lạc," or true peace and happiness. This joy is not loud, not thrilling, but it creates genuine merit. When we are patient and soothe another person's anger, bad karma dissolves, both sides feel lighter, and that joy lingers long after.

In this world, these two kinds of joy always run side by side. If we carelessly choose wrong, chasing after the pleasures of ordinary people — the desire to be obeyed, to be praised, to possess — then our mind becomes tangled, and karma keeps piling up.

But if we are fortunate enough to recognize and choose the joy of the noble ones — true peace — then our mind settles, the ego diminishes, and merit steadily accumulates.

Consider the story of that monk. When the new meditation hall was completed, everyone came to admire and praise it. The monk was happy too, but as he touched each wall, each pillar, he quietly thought: "This building belongs to the Buddha. It belongs to the devotees who made offerings. It belongs to the organization, to the country. I am only a temporary resident, here to look after it."

Thinking this way, the monk felt his heart grow light and serene. He was not yet a noble one, but by thinking in this way, he had learned to rejoice in the manner of the noble ones. Joy without attachment, joy that knows how to share, joy in which the mind remains undisturbed.

And that is precisely the lesson this monk wished to pass on to Buddhist devotees: Strive to choose for yourself the joy of the noble ones. In every circumstance, try to "brush aside your merit," without clinging to your effort, your money, or your contributions.

When we can do this, we will find life becomes lighter, and true peace will come naturally.

The Meaning of the Story

The joy of ordinary people comes from satisfying the ego: being praised, being obeyed, possessing things. That joy is intense but fleeting, disturbing the mind and creating bad karma. The joy of the noble ones (true peace) comes from patience, forgiveness, sharing, and "brushing aside one's merit" — not clinging to the results we have created. It is a gentle, lasting joy that generates real merit. The difference lies in how we respond to each situation: cursing others to satisfy ourselves, or practicing patience to dissolve conflict; boasting of our efforts, or quietly sharing.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thích Chân Quang

AI-assisted translation from the Vietnamese original.

Read in Vietnamese →