The Cry of the Bat and the Secret of Primordial Energy

**SUMMARY:** The story of a writer who recalls a past life as a bat, leading to a lesson about the primordial energy nurtured in the mother's womb and the correct method of meditative concentration to maintain health.

The slanting afternoon sun pierced through the rotting wooden window frame, casting a pale golden dust over Mr. Minh's desk. He sat motionless, his eyes, already clouded with age, suddenly wide open, pupils constricted as if witnessing something horrifying from a distant past. The silence was so profound that the ticking of the clock was audible, yet inside his mind raged a chaotic storm.

Mr. Minh was no ordinary person. A celebrated writer known for his prose steeped in the Buddha's teachings (Dharma), he had always prided himself on his awareness. But today, while sitting on his porch, a memory forgotten for decades violently resurfaced. It was not the image of a two-year-old child playing in the dirt, but the chilling, eerie sensation of a small creature hanging upside down in the pitch-black darkness.

"No! Don't!" he cried out, his voice hoarse, his trembling hands gripping the chair arms tightly. Tears rolled down his gaunt cheeks, dripping from his chin onto the cold tile floor. His wife rushed out in alarm, asking, "What's wrong? What happened?"

Mr. Minh shook his head vigorously, his breath ragged. "I... I remember. I was once a bat. The feeling... it was terrifying. The ultimate fear of hanging inverted in the dark, with no support, only the survival instinct. That was not peace; that was suffering."

Mr. Minh's story makes many ponder the limits of memory and the ignorance that clouds our minds. We gradually forget our early childhood years, and certainly no one recalls the sensation of being in the womb, except for enlightened masters or those with special intuition like him. But it is this very forgetfulness that causes us to lose an invaluable treasure: the pristine primordial energy.

While in the mother's womb, each of us possesses an undivided source of this primordial energy, promising a sustained life. If we remained there forever, we would not die. But the law of life forces us to be born. The very moment we emerge, our senses begin to work intensely: eyes see, ears hear, nose smells, mouth tastes, and the brain thinks. All these activities are concentrated in the head, pulling the flow of "true yin" upward from the dantian (lower abdomen). True yin is the root of life, the reservoir where primordial energy accumulates. When true yin is depleted due to continuous upward drainage by the consumption of senses and thoughts, the body ages and illness invades.

But what is even sadder is that many practitioners err in their practice, accelerating the loss of true yin. The Master recounted the story of a once-famous and imposing general. In his old age, he sought meditative concentration for tranquility. However, he chose a misguided method, one where the mind was still controlled and directed outward—even when turned inward, it used strong conscious effort to "search" for stillness. The result was that after just one year, his face became noticeably haggard, his vitality gone, and his wisdom severely declined. When the Master visited, the general could only rasp a few disjointed words: "Child... of... the Buddha... right there..." He had lost his precious primordial energy due to incorrect meditation, which, instead of nurturing true yin, caused it to escape even faster.

In stark contrast to this tragedy is a touching story about a Vietnamese-German couple. They took a vow to live in celibacy, dedicating themselves to the Dharma, and thus chose not to have children. This saddened the husband's parents back home greatly, as they longed for grandchildren. The wife wrote to the Master for advice and received a strange counsel: "See this as a debt to be repaid. Both of you should pray to a Bodhisattva to enter the womb." Heeding the advice, they performed a ritual and she became pregnant. Throughout the pregnancy, every morning before her husband went to work, she would sit in meditation before the Buddha altar and speak to her unborn child: "Let us meditate together, my child."

One day, she experienced abdominal pain and had to get an ultrasound. The doctor looked at the screen and exclaimed in surprise, "Why is the baby sitting as if practicing yoga?" On the ultrasound image, the baby in the womb was sitting in the full lotus position, exactly like the mother's meditation posture. The child had perceived the mother's intention through the sense of touch—the only sense active in the womb. This is clear evidence of the fetus's natural state of "whole-body dwelling."

From these stories, we understand that correct meditation is not about trying to control the mind or directing it outward, but about returning to the fetal state: whole-body sensation, aware of the entire body. Yet, unlike the unconscious fetus, the practitioner uses wisdom to actively dwell in this state. We stand right at our own "doorway," with our back to the outside world, looking deeply into our inner physical body. In that state, the breath becomes clear and is linked to discursive thoughts. By keeping the breath gentle and smooth, making the exhalation five times longer than the inhalation, thoughts will gradually settle. This is the key to protecting true yin, restoring primordial energy, and progressing towards liberation.

**Meaning of the Story**

The core lesson concerns the importance of protecting "primordial energy" and "true yin" within the body. Life and the external senses constantly drain this energy, leading to aging and illness. Correct practice of meditative concentration is not about using conscious effort to force the mind into stillness (which easily causes harm), but about returning to a state of "whole-body dwelling," combined with gentle breath to restrain discursive thoughts. Furthermore, meditation must walk hand in hand with ethical conduct and merit; without blessings from merit and an altruistic heart, a practitioner can easily stray into error, lose their health, and fail to attain true liberation.

*Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thích Chân Quang*