The Bitter Taste of Wine and the Instinct for Pleasure

In the warm room of the temple, among hundreds of faces listening attentively, the lecturer paused for a moment. His eyes swept across the room, and then suddenly he asked a question that made the whole assembly freeze:

"Is wine good or bad?"

Two opposite answers rose from below. Some said it was good, others shook their heads and said it was bad. The lecturer smiled, his gaze distant, as if remembering something very old.

"I find it bad," he said slowly. "From childhood until now, I have tried drinking wine many times. Seeing people drink together, chatting happily, talking merrily, I too was curious, and I secretly tried it. But this year I am fifty-three, fifty-four years old, and even now I still have not found wine pleasant. It still tastes sharp and bitter, terribly unpleasant."

A few soft laughs rippled through the room. But the lecturer did not stop there. He looked straight into the eyes following him, and his voice grew deeper:

"So why do people still drink? Because the instinct for pleasure lies deep within each of us. It drives us to seek sensations, whatever those sensations may be, as long as there is a sensation."

He told of a man who lived in the forest, not meeting anyone for many months. One day, walking to the edge of the forest, he happened to bump into a farmer. The farmer fell down, got up, and cursed him at length: "Are you blind? Can't you see me? Why did you walk right into me and knock me over?"

"And yet that man was not angry at all—he broke into a radiant smile. Being cursed made him happy, because for months no one had spoken to him. That curse, under ordinary circumstances, would have been unpleasant, but to someone starving for human contact, it was a gift."

The lecturer paused, letting the thought sink into each listener. He continued, his voice turning serious:

"This instinct for pleasure is very powerful. It exists in all of us, unless we have attained the third fruit of sainthood or beyond. Below that level, everyone has it. And when a person has great blessings from merit, much money, and great power, but no moral understanding to restrain themselves, they will go searching for pleasure."

He looked around, his voice slowing, emphasizing each word:

"That is why the wealthy fall into degradation. They have money, they have blessings from merit, but if they do not know how to do good deeds, do not practice, they spend their money on pleasure. And one of the most intense pleasures of all is sexual desire. Even monastics, if they do not practice sincerely, when lay Buddhists make many offerings, may secretly go seeking pleasure instead of doing the work of the Dharma."

His voice sank low, carrying a deep sorrow:

"Therefore, we must understand this psychology. Understand it to guard ourselves, understand it to love others, understand it to practice. Do not let the instinct for pleasure lead us down a dark path."

The assembly fell silent. Outside, night had fallen, but within each person's heart, it seemed some hidden corner had just been illuminated.

The Meaning of the Story

The story reminds us that the instinct for pleasure is a latent tendency in every human being, driving us to constantly seek sensations, whether joyful or sad, whether the wine is good or bad. Without moral understanding to recognize and restrain it, we can easily be led down a path of degradation. Only by understanding this psychology do we know how to guard ourselves, to do good deeds, and to practice in order to overcome the temptations of life.

Compiled from a dharma talk by TT. Thích Chân Quang