The Teacup and the Conical Hat

Afternoon sunlight filtered through the leaves, falling in dappled patterns on the stone tea table at the temple. A young monk uplifted the cup, its light passing through the ivory-white glaze.

"Today we will listen to a somewhat difficult dharma talk," the voice of Thay Thích Chân Quang resonated, gentle yet firm, "It is about the Dharma of Existence and the Dharma of Non-Existence of the Bodhisattva."

He looked around the assembly, his gaze resting on an old man sitting hunched at the foot of a star-apple tree, silent and without a word. From afar, his figure was faint in the shade.

"For example, right now," he uplifted the cup, "Does this cup exist or not?"

"Yes, it does!" The answer echoed from the assembly.

"It does," he nodded, "Because it has form, occupies a space, exists for a duration, and has a function for drinking water. That is Existence. But what about Non-Existence? Can anyone point out what Non-Existence is?"

A young man raised his hand, his voice full of confidence: "That means everything is Non-Existence!"

Thay shook his head, a kind smile mixed with slight gravity: "If you say that, you lose your compassion. If you look at everyone and see only Non-Existence, first you offend everyone, and second, how can you love anyone? Everyone sitting here is lovable and precious. Without listeners, how could I lecture? Your very presence gives strength to this talk."

He placed the teacow down, his voice deeper: "In truth, we cannot find anything that is completely Non-Existence. And conversely, nothing is absolutely existent."

He uplifted the conical hat, its color weathered by time, its bamboo strips windswept.

"This hat has the function of keeping your head warm, it occupies space, and it has a price. But that existence is not durable. Money loses its value, it decays with time. Everything is like this."

Silence enveloped the gathering, with only the rustle of falling leaves remaining. Suddenly, Thay's voice rose, like a rare wind cutting through the sultry air: "But there is a very strange Non-Existence."

He pointed to the empty land behind the main hall, where wild grass was growing lushly.

"That empty plot of land has nothing. Naturally, grass grows. Where does the grass come from? It wasn't in the soil. It grew on its own. Science says grass seeds blow in the air, but if we seal everything airtight and spray seed-killers, life still appears."

An old woman drew closer, her eyes full of curiosity: "Is that true, Thay? It grows from nothingness?"

"It is true," he nodded. "That is the secret of heaven and earth. Life emerges from non-existence into existence. If the conditions for life are sufficient, life will appear, without needing a prior seed."

He uplifted a smartphone, its screen reflecting the faint afternoon light.

"There are things that become Existence from Existence. Becoming rich, and richer still, by understanding the cause and effect of merit and sin, by being humble, respectful, and prudent. But after reading the news, seeing stories of infidelity, I began to lose faith. Human emotions are complex, impermanent. When first in love, everyone vows eternal fidelity, but in reality..."

Thay was silent for a moment, his gaze distant. His voice became gentle, as if telling an old fairy tale: "And there is Non-Existence that becomes even more Non-Existence. Poverty, deeper poverty, death from starvation."

The sky had shifted to the color of twilight. The lights in the prayer hall began to flicker. He uplifted the teacup, now cold.

"But do not be hasty in your pessimism. In the void region of the universe, where we think there is nothing, it is actually full of latent forms of energy. When conditions align, energy collides and twists into the first elementary particles: protons and electrons. From there, hydrogen atoms emerge, then stars, then planets, then life."

He looked at the assembly, his eyes bright: "Thus, in an environment of extreme stillness, wisdom begins to appear. This is the path of Eastern philosophy. Keeping the mind/heart empty and tranquil is the way for wisdom and true memory to develop."

The assembly was silent, as if a new door had just been opened. The teacup on the table, the conical hat in his hand, the grassy plot in the distance—all seemed to carry a new meaning, both existent and non-existent, both real and mystical.

Meaning of the Story

This dharma talk emphasizes that in the universe and in life, nothing is completely "existent" or completely "non-existent" in an absolute way. All phenomena exist within the workings of impermanence, cause and effect, and natural laws. Understanding this helps us live with gratitude for the presence of others, to cherish what we have, and to realize that the stillness and purity within the mind/heart is the foundation for true wisdom to arise—just as life can appear from the void of the universe.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Most Venerable Thích Chân Quang