The Speed of the Soul

On an autumn afternoon, the pale golden sunlight stretched across the temple courtyard as the bell rang clearly in the wind. In the lecture hall, hundreds of young faces were listening intently. The silence was so deep that only the sound of steady breathing remained. The venerable teacher sat upon the dharma seat, his gentle eyes gazing down at the assembly as he slowly began his story.

"Fast living and slow living," he said in a warm, resonant voice. "Have you ever wondered why, within the same amount of time, some people accomplish so much while others just sit and reread the same newspaper? The speed at which each person lives is different, and it greatly determines the course of their life."

He paused, looking around the room. "When I was young, I had a friend who was a soldier. One night, he left the barracks, and it was very late, around midnight. Suddenly, he saw a white shadow beneath a bush, its long hair hanging down. He looked closely and saw no feet, and knew immediately it was a ghost. Terrified, he ran with all his might. When he reached the camp fence, which was taller than two meters, he leaped right over it and ran straight to his room. The next morning, he looked at the fence and couldn't understand how he had jumped over it. Because of the extreme fear, the hidden potential within him erupted. That is fast living—when facing danger, people fully realize their abilities."

The teacher paused again, his eyes distant. "No nation in this world is less intelligent than another. But some countries have set foot on the moon, while we still haven't invented a car engine. Why? Because we lack productivity. We live too slowly. Others work urgently and intensely, while we take our time, waiting for rice to ripen, for potatoes to grow, then go fishing, catch snails, and write poetry. We have much literature, but our science and technology lag far behind."

A young man in the front row raised his hand to ask: "Venerable teacher, is slow living a bad thing then?"

The teacher smiled gently, his eyes kind: "Slow living is not bad, but it must come after you have learned to live fast. You must work productively, contribute much to the world, and only then earn the right to live slowly to nourish your mind. Like sitting in meditation—that is the slowest living of all, yet it opens the door to a world of happiness and wisdom. But if you only seek enjoyment and are lazy, your blessings from merit will run out, and your life will decline."

He looked around, his voice growing stronger: "When I was young, I had to work in the fields. My family only had my father and me as men, while my mother and several younger sisters were at home. I was very sickly, but as the only son, I had to bear all the hard labor. I would dig the soil very quickly so my younger siblings could follow behind to drop seeds. I alone dug the holes, but four or five people dropping seeds could barely keep up. In this way, the habit of working quickly became my nature. As I grew up, doing anything slowly made me uncomfortable—it made me feel lazy and guilty."

The young man asked again, his voice filled with doubt: "Venerable teacher, does working fast mean diving into work and forgetting everything else?"

"No," the teacher shook his head. "Work fast, but still with care. You work for the sake of your conscience, your responsibility, your morality—not to show off or make a display. When you contribute much, you will accumulate blessings from merit, and these blessings will bring good fortune. But you must train for at least three years until it becomes your nature, and then you will be able to accomplish great things throughout your life."

The lecture hall fell silent. Everyone there seemed to be reflecting on themselves. The evening sunlight slanted through the window, gilding the thoughtful young faces. They understood that the speed of living is not just about work; it is about how each person values time and cherishes their own life.

When the dharma talk ended, many stood up with a more resolute look in their eyes. They began to reassess their own time and the things they had done, promising themselves to make a change. For they knew that every minute that passes, the world continues to move without pause, and they did not want to be left behind.

### The Meaning of the Story

The lesson that Venerable Thich Chan Quang wishes to convey is this: we should cultivate the habit of working urgently and productively to contribute to the world, for this is the foundation of success and blessings from merit. Only after fulfilling our responsibilities do we earn the right to live slowly to cultivate our mind and soul, such as through meditation, to step into a world of happiness and wisdom. Slow living is not wrong, but it is only appropriate when it comes after a life lived swiftly and responsibly.

*Compiled from the dharma talk of Venerable Thich Chan Quang*