Confidence and Conceit

The afternoon sun faded to a pale gold in the countryside, while strong winds swept through the tree branches. I sat on my porch, sipping hot tea, when I heard my neighbor speaking to someone at the gate. She said that a certain charity group was actually a scam, claiming they collected donations from people but did not truly perform acts of merit.

I froze and set down my cup. A feeling of discomfort rose within me, as if someone had insulted something sacred. This was because I was no stranger to that charity group. I had visited them, eaten with them, lived among them, and worked alongside them for several months.

This story began last year when I heard rumors about a group collecting money to aid the poor. At first, it seemed ordinary, but whispers suggested they kept most of the funds for themselves, donating only a small fraction. Being naturally skeptical and eager to uncover the truth, I decided to visit them personally to see what was really happening.

On my first day, I observed them from a distance. They were simple people, dressed modestly and speaking softly. I thought to myself that I must interact closely with them rather than trust anyone hastily. So, I asked to stay with them, sharing their meals and work. I watched every word, gesture, and how they treated the poor. They boasted nothing and calculated no gains. They shared bags of rice and boxes of noodles with those in hardship without asking for anything in return. Even on stormy nights, they traveled deep into remote areas to deliver gifts to the villagers.

I remember once asking a member of the group, "Brother, this work is so exhausting, yet you gain nothing material." He smiled gently and replied, "I do gain something. I find joy in seeing others suffer less. That happiness cannot be bought with any amount of money."

At that moment, a firm conviction settled in my heart, an assurance that no words could shake. I knew with certainty that these people were not frauds. Their work was entirely selfless, springing from a sincere heart.

Yet now, right before my own home, I heard people slandering them. My heart tightened, and a surge of passion rose within me. I could no longer sit still. I stood up, walked to the gate, looked directly at the speaker, and stated firmly, "No, I know that group well. I have stayed with them and done charitable work together. They are not deceiving anyone. They are good people who work voluntarily, without seeking profit."

My neighbor looked at me, surprised by my decisiveness. She said, "But people say otherwise... I heard they only donate a small part..." I remained resolute, refusing to yield. "No, I witnessed it with my own eyes. They work wholeheartedly, with no trace of selfishness. I dare to affirm this."

The neighbor fell silent, saying nothing more. As for me, I stood there, filled with pride for having defended the truth. I felt an invisible strength supporting me, a power born from righteousness and the facts I had personally witnessed. I felt no fear or hesitation, because I knew I was standing on the side of truth.

However, I suddenly recalled another time when I, too, had made mistakes due to arrogance. Back then, I was young and believed I was always right. I once argued with friends about a scientific issue, insisting I was correct and they were wrong. I refused to listen to anyone, thinking I had read many books and understood more than they did. Later, upon further study, I realized I had been mistaken. I had been conceited, assuming my correctness without listening to other objective arguments.

When I recognized this, I felt immense shame. I remembered looking down on a friend simply because he disagreed with me. I thought he lacked knowledge and was not worth debating. In reality, his perspective was far more objective than mine. I had hurt others and blinded myself because of my ego.

Standing there in the windy afternoon, I suddenly understood a crucial lesson. The difference between confidence and conceit does not lie in whether one believes they are right, but in where that belief originates. Confidence comes from truth, from righteousness, from what one has personally witnessed, experienced, and objectively verified. Conceit, however, stems from illusion, from a haughty ego, and from a refusal to listen or acknowledge other viewpoints.

Since then, I constantly remind myself to remain humble. No matter how confident I am, I always leave room for doubt and for listening to others. I recall the teaching that even great figures and geniuses like Einstein sometimes make errors. How, then, can an ordinary person like me claim to always be right?

Now, whenever I am about to form a judgment, I ask myself: "Is this truly correct? Am I being too subjective? Have I listened to all other opinions?" I learn to challenge myself, seeking arguments to refute my own thoughts. Only when I can no longer refute them do I tentatively accept them as reasonable, while remaining ready to hear others' views.

Life has become lighter since then. I am less irritable and argue less with others. I have learned to listen and to put myself in others' shoes. I realize that humility allows us to learn much from life and from those around us. I no longer fear being looked down upon, because I know true confidence comes from within, from understanding and righteousness, not from always insisting one is right.

The Meaning of the Story

This story helps us clearly distinguish between two easily confused concepts: confidence and conceit. Confidence is a conviction rooted in truth, righteousness, objective understanding, and ethics. Conceit is stubbornness and rigidity, believing oneself to be right while refusing to listen to others. Conceit leads to pride, contempt for others, and eventual collapse. To avoid this affliction, we must maintain a humble mind, knowing how to listen and how to critically examine ourselves, for even great individuals sometimes err.

Compiled from the dharma talk by Venerable Thich Chan Quang