The Elder Who Wished to Change the World

In a conversation that seemed quite ordinary, an elder’s voice rang out without pause. He was more than ten years older than the young boy sitting before him, carrying himself with full confidence as he moved from one observation to another critique. The room seemed filled only by his firm tone. Meanwhile, the boy sat still, eyes attentive, listening to every word with a habit of respecting elders and a thirst for learning.

At that time, the boy always thought of himself as small and lacking in understanding. Therefore, whenever he met an elderly person or an elder speaking, he listened with sincere attention. He did not rush to argue, nor did he assume he already knew everything. In those young yet humble thoughts, he believed each story from those who came before might contain precious experience worth learning.

That day, the elder was particularly eager to talk. He spoke at length about people, society, and great matters of the world. He analyzed where this person was right and where that person was wrong; sometimes praising someone’s talent, other times coldly dismissing another’s ability. Through his manner of speaking, he acted as if he had seen through all things and needed only an opportunity to accomplish great deeds.

He said, “This person can only go so far; they cannot achieve anything significant.” Then he spoke of another: “That person has some ability, but still does not know how to turn the tide.”

As the boy listened, a sense of unease gradually arose within him. The elder spoke fluently and sharply, appearing very wise; yet the more he listened, the more the boy noticed something amiss in those words. The elder was not merely discussing life. He was implicitly placing himself above everyone he criticized.

The boy asked cautiously, “Do you think you can do those things?”

The elder replied immediately, his voice without any hesitation: “If given the chance, I have enough ability to change the situation of society and accomplish great deeds.”

The boy asked again, “But those tasks are very large. Surely they require much ability and many conditions?”

The elder only smiled, his decisive look unchanged: “The important thing is to have talent and know how to calculate. I understand these matters.”

This answer left the boy silent. He did not wish to be disrespectful to someone older than himself, but a clear judgment had emerged in his mind: the elder was overestimating himself. He spoke of all kinds of strategies, seeming to know everything under heaven, yet those great matters remained only in words.

This was the turning point of the conversation. Initially, the boy listened because he thought he could learn knowledge from someone older. But when he realized that all observations revolved around the belief that the speaker was an extremely talented person, he understood this was no longer a noble aspiration. It was an illusion about oneself.

A true ideal can also begin with a big dream. However, a person living with ideals does not gather all achievements for personal benefit, fame, or superiority. They hope to have the capacity to serve the community, helping the country and its people. Conversely, when a person lacks corresponding ability yet believes themselves superior, capable of deciding everything and changing society, that dream has deviated from reality.

After the meeting, the boy did not argue nor try to embarrass the elder. He simply silently remembered what he had realized. His eagerness to learn remained intact, but from then on, he understood that not every word spoken with confidence is correct. To learn from others, besides humility, one needs the ability to observe and distinguish between true wisdom and excessive self-esteem.

A long time passed after that. The boy grew up and eventually became a monastic. From the last time he met the elder until he recounted this story, more than forty years had gone by. The man who once believed he could change society gradually faded into life, never seen again, and none of the great deeds he had confidently promised to accomplish ever materialized.

His disappearance left a silence worthy of reflection. No one knows clearly where the elder’s life drifted afterward. Only his words from years ago remain as a warning: illusions can wear the cloak of wisdom, speak with strategic tones, and paint a vast future. But if their root is arrogance and self-assessment higher than reality, they do not elevate the person but only cause the mind to drift further from truth.

The former boy later came to understand even more deeply the value of humility. Knowing one is still imperfect is not low self-esteem. It is the starting point for continuing to learn, cultivating ability, and preventing the soul from falling into disorder due to ambitions that are disproportionate. A person may dream big, but that dream becomes an ideal only when it turns toward the benefit of many people and is founded upon self-knowledge.

The Meaning of the Story

Illusion differs from ideal in that it is often tied to personal benefit and self-assessment higher than reality. To pursue great work, we must maintain humility, correctly understand our own abilities, and direct all dreams toward serving humanity.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thich Chan Quang