The Gold Pot by the Roadside

A parable about the differing perspectives of the enlightened and the ordinary person when faced with the same material object, and a lesson on the immortality of the Dharma Body.

That afternoon, the warm golden light was fading over the dusty road. The Buddha and his attendant Ānanda were walking at a gentle pace, light dust rising from beneath their bare feet. Suddenly, the Buddha stopped, pointing a hand toward a bush by the roadside, his voice deep and serene.

“Ānanda,” he said, “there is a snake’s pit below, a source of suffering.”

Ānanda, whose mind was already clear, looked where the Buddha pointed. With a steady gaze, he perceived a dark brown earthenware pot with a tight lid, buried deep in the soft soil—a pot of gold left by someone from the past. Its owner had long since died, and no one else knew of it. He nodded slightly.

“World Honored One, it is exactly so,” he replied. “It is because of things like this that sentient beings suffer.”

The two continued on their way, leaving a silent treasure by the side of the road.

But a farmer who was hoeing the earth nearby had overheard their conversation. He paused, watching the two monks, his heart full of doubt. “What thing causes suffering? There must be something there.” Curious, he quietly went to the spot they had indicated and began to dig. Before long, his hoe struck something hard. He dug with great effort, sweat streaming down his face, weathered by sun and wind. When the pot was revealed, he tremblingly opened the lid—gold! Gleaming bars of gold shone in the late afternoon sun. He cried out in joy, but then quickly covered his mouth, looking around nervously. “These monks are truly strange, calling gold a source of suffering!” he muttered. He hurried home with the pot.

From that night on, his life began to turn into a nightmare. He told his wife and children to keep silent, but his own eyes darted restlessly, constantly watching the door and window. Neighbors, sensing he had found something, began to watch him closely. A few days later, rumors of the gold pot spread. Thieves started to lurk around his house, and every night he heard furtive footsteps. He lost sleep, his face becoming gaunt, his hand always clutching a machete. Then the authorities learned of it, came to confiscate the gold, and arrested him for concealing wealth. In the dark prison cell, he sat with his head in his hands, tears streaming down: “It truly is suffering… those two monks were not wrong.”

Meanwhile, the Buddha and Ānanda continued their tranquil walk. With the same pot of gold, the enlightened one saw it as a seed of suffering, while the ordinary person saw it as happiness. And because of this mistaken view, people bind themselves in a spiral of greed and fear, ultimately losing everything.

**The Meaning of the Story**

When the mind is still clouded, we perceive material things as happiness, but in reality, they are the origin of suffering. Conversely, when there is faith and understanding in the immortality of the Dharma Body and the mind is pure, then all phenomena become the Buddha’s teachings—a breeze passing, a falling leaf, can all be sources of happiness. Do not let greed blind your eyes. Rather, dwell peacefully in the present moment to perceive the true value of life.

*Compiled from a Dharma talk by Venerable Thích Chân Quang.*