The Monk of the Western Waterlands and the Trap of Disgust

One afternoon at a small temple in the riverine West, the air was so still that one could clearly hear the wind moving through the fronds of the nipa palms. The abbot, a middle-aged man with a weathered face and eyes always cast down toward the ground, sat in meditation before the Buddha statue. He had devoted seven or eight full years of his life to battling what he called "the enemy within" — the sexual instinct.

He remembered his early days of ordination, when he had heard a dharma talk about the impurity of the body and the importance of pure celibacy. Instead of understanding it as a means toward liberation, he had turned it into a weapon to attack himself and the world around him. Whenever he saw the silhouette of a woman passing by the temple gate, his heart would pound — not from attraction, but from fear and disgust. He told himself: "They are the source of sin, a filth that must be driven away."

One morning, a young woman from the town came to the temple to ask for directions. She was simply dressed, with a gentle smile. But instead of answering politely, the monk suddenly flew into a rage. He sprang to his feet, his voice trembling but full of contempt:

"Get away! Do not bother me! Your bodies are nothing but bags of skin filled with filth. Leave this place at once!"

The girl stood stunned, her eyes brimming with tears, and hurried away. The monk breathed a sigh of relief, feeling as though he had just won a great battle. He believed that such harshness, condemnation, and contempt were the very expression of his determination to keep the precepts. The more he despised sexuality, the closer he believed himself to be to purity.

But as time passed, the pressure accumulated within him like a ticking time bomb. He could no longer sleep well, and disturbing dreams began to haunt him. He tried to enter ever-deeper retreat, cutting off all contact with the outside world, imprisoning himself in isolation and fear. He had confused the suppression of emotions with the true transformation of the mind. He forgot that when we focus too intently on fighting something, we unwittingly hand it the power to control us.

Then one fateful day arrived. After seven or eight years of diligent practice, the monk walked out through the temple gate. No one could have guessed that the one accompanying him was not a disciple or a visiting pilgrim, but a young woman. They held hands, and the way they looked at each other held no disgust or fear, but a strange bond, as if they had known each other in some former life.

Rumors spread throughout the region. Many people were shocked, even indignant. "Why? How could someone who practiced so strictly fall like this?" The answer lies elsewhere. It was precisely the extreme attitude, the contempt, and the harsh condemnation of sexuality that created a karmic force that turned against him. When the mind is torn apart by fierce judgment, a person loses the depth and calm needed to face reality. The monk did not steer gently around the problem; he tried to smash through it with the force of his hatred. As a result, the vehicle of his life swerved straight into the ditch instead of staying on course.

The Meaning of the Story

This story reminds us that in practice and in keeping the precepts, especially with regard to sensual desire, extreme attitudes — whether excessive contempt or excessive fascination — are equally dangerous. A practitioner needs awareness, recognizing the sexual instinct as a natural part of physiology and psychology, and should not turn it into an enemy to be hated. Contempt and condemnation not only create karma but also unbalance the mind, making failure likely when old karmic conditions arise. The core lesson is to keep the mind/heart in balance, skillfully working with our emotions through wisdom and an understanding of cause and effect (karmic law), rather than through repression or harsh judgment.

Compiled from a dharma talk by the Venerable Thích Chân Quang.