The Impossible Dream of a Bodhisattva

In a small temple resting quietly on the outskirts of town, as dim golden lamplight fell upon the old brick walls, a young monk sat before the Buddha altar, his hands gripping a copy of the Diamond Sutra. Beads of sweat gathered on his forehead, and his brows were furrowed as if he were wrestling with something beyond his capacity to bear. He whispered, "O Buddha, why are these teachings so hard to understand? I want to subdue my own mind, yet the Buddha tells me I must liberate all sentient beings into nirvana. How could I ever do that?"

The young monk had practiced for more than ten years. He knew the sutras by heart, cultivated meditative concentration, and had overcome countless waves of anger, greed, and delusion within himself. Yet whenever he read this passage of the sutra, he felt helpless. He knew he was still weak, still entangled in confusion, and yet the Buddha was asking him to make an aspiration so vast it seemed impossible: to liberate countless sentient beings—from the smallest creatures, no bigger than microbes, to the noble saints—guiding them all into final nirvana. He wondered, "The Buddha himself attained Buddhahood and entered nirvana, and yet sentient beings still fill this world. So is this teaching even practical?"

One afternoon, he went to see his teacher, an old Zen master with deep eyes and a warm gaze. He said, "Venerable teacher, when I read the Diamond Sutra, I see the Buddha teaching that to subdue the mind, one must liberate all sentient beings. But this seems impractical to me. Even the Buddha has not finished liberating them all—how much less can I, an ordinary person who has only just stepped through the gate of the path? Should I simply skip over this passage?"

The Zen master smiled, poured a cup of hot tea, and handed it to the young monk. He spoke slowly, "Do you see this cup of tea? It is small, enough for only one person. But if you wish to become a river, you must think of the ocean. The Buddha teaches you to dream greatly, not so that you can accomplish it right away, but so that you may join the stream of all the Buddhas of the past. They made this very same aspiration, and if you wish to enter the house of the Buddha, you too must hold this same aspiration."

The young monk sat in silence, lifting the cup of tea with trembling hands. He felt as though an invisible hand had drawn back a curtain in his mind. He asked, "But teacher, if I am just an ordinary person, with no ability to liberate anyone, what meaning does this aspiration have? It would be like a poor student declaring he wants to rule the world—people would only laugh."

The Zen master placed a hand on his shoulder and lowered his voice, "My child, in the Buddha's teachings, an aspiration is not for boasting. It is a seed. When you plant that seed in your heart, it will sprout into spiritual strength. You may not accomplish it today, but you will pass it on to future generations. Just as a teacher of old who cared only about building grand temples and great statues would leave behind disciples who cared only about money, a teacher who carries in his heart an aspiration of virtue will leave behind disciples who continue to live a noble and pure life. That is cause and effect (karmic law)—the flowing stream of the spirit."

The young monk suddenly awoke. He looked out the window, where the last rays of the day were slowly fading. He understood at once: the aspiration to liberate all sentient beings was not a task to be completed immediately, but an ideal to live by and act upon each day. It was the lamp lighting his way, keeping him from falling into selfishness, from caring only for himself. He rose and pressed his palms together before his teacher: "Venerable teacher, I make this vow. Though I cannot accomplish it, I will carry this aspiration in my heart, and I will do everything I can to help sentient beings understand the Dharma, practice, and create merit."

From that day on, the young monk no longer felt helpless before the sutra. He began to serve as a bridge: lending books to others, inviting friends to hear dharma talks, sharing meaningful teachings. He did not rush to become a teacher, but humbly became a connecting link. Many years later, some of those he had helped became devoted Buddhists, and they, in turn, went on to help others. The stream of that aspiration spread ever outward, like small waves joining together into an ocean.

And the old monk of those early days, looking back on his life, smiled. He knew that although he had never literally led a single sentient being into nirvana, his aspiration had helped keep the flame of the Buddha's teachings (Dharma) alive in the world. He came to understand that this very "impossible" dream was the truest of all, for it did not arise from his small ego, but from a heart in harmony with all the Buddhas.

The Meaning of the Story

The Buddha taught that practitioners must make the aspiration to liberate all sentient beings, even knowing it cannot be fully accomplished in a single lifetime. This aspiration is not a command to be fulfilled, but a way for practitioners to continue the heartfelt vows of all the Buddhas of the past, creating a spiritual stream for future generations. It is a lesson in holding an absolute ideal while practicing with humility: do everything you can, but do not cling to your accomplishments.

Compiled from a dharma talk by the Venerable Thích Chân Quang