In the Mountain Tree chapter of the ancient Taoist classic Zhuangzi, there’s a simple yet profound story:
A man was crossing a river in a small boat when he noticed another boat drifting straight toward him. He shouted several times to warn the oncoming boat, but received no reply. Furious, he began cursing the other “reckless” person. But when the boats collided, he realized the other vessel was completely empty. In that moment, his anger vanished into thin air.
This story reveals a timeless truth: Often, what triggers our anger isn’t real harm but our judgment about the intention behind an event—our belief that someone shouldn’t have acted a certain way, or that people like that shouldn’t exist.
Imagine the same situation, but this time with a person steering the other boat. Most of us would react with outrage: “What’s wrong with you? Watch where you’re going!” A conflict would likely erupt. But when we know the boat is empty, we simply steer around it and move on.
This is beautifully explained in psychology by the ABC model:
A stands for the Activating event
B is our Belief about the event
C is the Consequence—our emotional response
It’s not the event itself that causes our reaction, but how we interpret it. Change your mindset, and your entire emotional response changes with it.
“The weak blame, the strong adjust, the wise let go.” How you choose to interpret the world shapes the emotional and spiritual life you live.
Zhuangzi’s parable invites us to practice a mental shift: what if we saw others as “empty boats”? When a coworker unintentionally bumps into you, instead of assuming hostility, think, “Maybe they were just distracted.” When a friend speaks harshly, perhaps they’re struggling with something you don’t know. Instead of reacting with pain or revenge, consider that it may not have been personal.
Seeing others as “empty boats” helps us release resentment, practice compassion, and expand our emotional resilience. It allows us to heal ourselves faster, without getting trapped in cycles of blame and victimhood.
German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer once said:
“To be angry at someone’s behavior is as foolish as being angry at a rock blocking your path.” True wisdom lies in seeing through the illusion of control, and responding with tolerance rather than judgment.
When life doesn’t go our way, it’s easy to fall into the trap of self-pity: “Why is this happening to me?” But such thoughts only darken our mood and invite more misery.
The real shift happens when we stop blaming others and start examining our own mindset. By applying the “Empty Boat” perspective, we reduce conflict, soothe emotional storms, and gain a wider, calmer view of life. This isn’t just emotional regulation—it’s a deeper level of personal growth.
Zhuangzi also wrote:
“If a person can empty themselves and move through the world with humility, who can harm them?”
When we’re too attached to ego—too quick to feel offended, too focused on saving face—we inevitably clash with others. But if we release pride, prejudice, and the need to control, we become unshakable. No one can truly hurt us when we no longer take things personally.
Our mindset is the foundation of how we face adversity. Approach life with a peaceful, open heart, and life will respond in kind. Let go of the need for constant validation. Don’t let others’ words disturb your inner calm.
The journey of life is like sailing through mist—we never know what lies ahead. Complaining or getting angry doesn’t change reality; it only slows us down. But when we practice acceptance and face life with serenity, we go farther, and with greater ease.
Imagine all the unpleasant people or events in your life as “empty boats.” Let go of resentment and emotional baggage. You’ll find that forgiveness is not weakness, but a deep, penetrating wisdom. No longer a slave to your emotions, you become the true master of your mind.
May you carry an empty and serene heart, navigating life’s storms with grace, and holding on to peace amid the noise of the world.
Recently, the animated film Nezha 2 has become incredibly popular, reaching the top spot in global box office earnings for animated movies. While many believe Nezha is a character from Chinese mythology, his origins can actually be traced back to Buddhist scriptures.
Vaisravana
Nezha’s name first appeared in Vajrayana Buddhist texts, where he is associated with the role of a Dharma protector. He is described as the third son of Vaisravana, one of the Four Heavenly Kings. According to The Ritual of Vaisravana, “The Heavenly King’s third son, Prince Nezha, holds a pagoda and always follows the King.” His duty is to assist his father in safeguarding the Dharma, driving away evil forces, and protecting humanity. In The Mantra of the Dharma Protector Following the Northern Vaisravana Heavenly King, translated by the eminent Tang Dynasty monk Amoghavajra, Nezha is again referred to as Vaisravana’s third son. Other Buddhist texts from the Tang Dynasty, such as The Awakening of Faith in the Mahayana and The Lotus Sutra, also mention Nezha.
In Buddhism, Dharma protectors and yaksha deities often have fierce appearances, symbolizing their hatred of evil and fearless bravery. As a result, Nezha is typically depicted with a wrathful and intimidating image. As Buddhism spread to China, many Buddhist stories and figures gradually merged with local Chinese culture, giving rise to new belief systems. Over time, Nezha became integrated into Taoism and Chinese folk beliefs, forming a unique cultural phenomenon.
The story of Nezha is filled with many well-known and beloved episodes, such as his birth from a ball of flesh, cutting his flesh and bones to repay his parents, and being reborn from a lotus flower. Although this scene cannot be found in modern Buddhist scriptures, it became a popular topic among monks after the Song Dynasty. For example, Volume 1 of The Comprehensive Collection of Zen Verses on Ancient Cases mentions: “Prince Nezha offered his flesh to his mother and his bones to his father, then manifested his true form and used his divine power to preach to his parents.” This suggests that the story of Nezha sacrificing his flesh and bones likely originated from Buddhist texts. Although the exact cause and details are unclear, this story undoubtedly provided a prototype for later adaptations in folk literature.
As Buddhism spread throughout China, the assimilation of foreign religions by local culture and the evolution of folk beliefs gradually transformed Nezha’s image, steering it away from its original Buddhist context and toward a more Chinese identity. After the Tang Dynasty, the worship of Vaisravana (known as Bishamonten in Japan) reached its peak in China, gaining widespread recognition from both the imperial court and the common people. He was honored in official rituals and revered by many folk believers. Simultaneously, Li Jing, a prominent Tang Dynasty military general, became a popular figure of worship as a god of war. Renowned for his military campaigns against the Turks and Tuyuhun in the northwest, Li Jing was deified as early as the Tang Dynasty, with dedicated temples built in his honor during the Song Dynasty.
Li Jing’s temple wall statue
The broader and deeper the spread of a belief, the greater the possibility of its transformation and integration with other cultural elements. Over time, through public imagination and interpretation, the belief in Vaisravana merged with the worship of Li Jing, forming a new deity known as “Pagoda-Wielding Heavenly King Li” (Tuota Li Tianwang) by the Song Dynasty at the latest. From then on, Vaisravana took on the surname Li and became more secularized and localized within Chinese culture. Since Li Jing became identified with Vaisravana, it was only natural within folk beliefs to regard Nezha as Li Jing’s son. This marked Nezha’s departure from the cultural context of foreign religions and his integration into the Chinese pantheon.
This transformation made Nezha a more relatable and accessible figure, understood through the lens of native cultural concepts. As a result, Nezha’s story gained broader appeal, providing ample room for reinterpretation and adaptation in later generations.
Nezha holds an important place in ancient Chinese mythology. Under the influence of Taoism, he was endowed with more mythological attributes, portrayed as a young hero with powerful magical abilities who frequently battles demons and protects the people. His story further developed in classic literary works such as Journey to the West and Investiture of the Gods, where Nezha became a symbol of justice and courage.
In 64 AD, Emperor Ming of the Eastern Han Dynasty sent Cai Yin and others on a mission to the Western Regions to retrieve Buddhist scriptures. The following year, in 65 AD, Cai Yin, Qin Jing, and others met the esteemed Indian monks She Moteng and Zhu Falan in Greater Yuezhi (present-day Afghanistan), where they were introduced to Buddhist scriptures and statues for the first time. In 67 AD, the Han envoy team returned to Luoyang with the high monks She Moteng, Zhu Falan, and the Buddhist scriptures and statues carried by a white horse. The two high monks were welcomed with a grand reception by Emperor Ming, who also commissioned the construction of China’s first temple, the White Horse Temple in Luoyang, especially for them.
White Horse Temple
On the first day of the first month in the fourteenth year of Yongping, Taoists from the Five Sacred Mountains submitted a petition requesting a competition with the Brahmin monks to determine the superiority of China’s native Taoism versus the foreign Buddhism. Emperor Ming granted the Taoists’ request. In 71 AD, a historic Buddhist-Taoist debate and contest unfolded in Chinese Buddhist history.
As the competition began, the Taoists said, “Let’s start with debating. You monks pride yourselves on eloquently explaining the Dharma, don’t you? So, let’s have a debate! If you can make one point, we will make two; if you raise one, we will counter with three. Go ahead and present your profound arguments!”
She Moteng slowly lifted one foot and raised it towards the sky, smiling, and said, “Amitabha, I have raised one, now it’s your turn to raise three!”
The Taoists looked at each other, stumped, and couldn’t think of a way to counter for a long time. They then changed the subject: “Let’s compare theories. You Buddhists call yourselves ‘Inner Learning,’ while you call us ‘Heterodox.’ But throughout history, when discussing inner and outer, inner has always been smaller than outer. So, your Inner Learning is small, and cannot compare to our great Heterodox!”
She Moteng brought his palms together in a gesture of respect and slowly explained: “The emperor resides in the inner palace, while the common people live in the outer city; although the inner palace is small, the emperor is great. The heart is inside the body, while the hands and feet are outside, the activity of the heart is boundless, while the movements of the hands and feet are limited. This is another example of how the inner is superior to the outer. Think carefully, the Inner Learning of Buddhism is much greater than the Heterodox!”
The Taoists, unable to win the debate, finally said, “Let’s compare magical powers!” How to compare? By placing the scriptures spoken by the Buddha and the scriptures spoken by the Taoist tradition together and burning them with fire. If one’s scriptures burn, then they are false; if one’s scriptures don’t burn, then they are true.
So, in the south of White Horse Temple, two high platforms were set up, one in the east and one in the west. The east platform held the Buddhist scriptures, images, and relics, while the west platform held the Taoist scriptures.
At that time, five hundred Taoist priests gathered the Taoist scriptures and magical texts together and prayed to the Supreme Lord Laozi, saying: “Oh, Taoist Virtuous Sage! Please show great divine power, and make our Taoist scriptures not burn, and let the Buddhist scriptures burn.”
Many of the Taoist priests at that time had supernatural powers – some could ride clouds and fog, some could fly in the sky and hide underground, and some could become invisible. Invisible means that you could see him right in front of you, and then suddenly he’s gone! There were Taoist priests with such abilities. They could use evasion techniques – Qimen Dunjia, to escape, and with Taoist spells and incantations, they had great supernatural powers.
But what happened when the fire was lit? The Buddhist scriptures did not burn; they emitted light! The Buddha’s relics also emitted a five-colored light, and the scriptures emitted light up into the sky, as if the sun was shining upon the world.
What about the Taoist scriptures? They caught fire as soon as they were burned and were completely destroyed by the fire. Those who could ride clouds and fog could no longer ride clouds or exhibit supernatural powers; those who could fly in the sky could no longer fly; those who could hide underground could no longer hide; those who could become invisible could no longer become invisible. Their spells and incantations also lost their effectiveness and had no power.
She Moteng and Zhu Falan, the two venerable monks, were responsible for overseeing this scripture contest, which was of great significance for the rise or fall of Buddhism. To strengthen the faith of the masses, She Moteng and Zhu Falan displayed eighteen divine transformations, levitating in the sky and reciting the following verses:
“The fox is not of the lion’s kind, a lamp is not as bright as the sun and moon; a pond cannot hold the vast sea, a hill cannot match the towering mountain. The Dharma cloud descends upon the world, the Dharma rain nourishes all beings. Supernatural powers are rare, manifesting everywhere to transform sentient beings.”
“The fox is not of the lion’s kind” means that, although the fox spirit is cunning and can change shape, it is far inferior to the lion. The fox and the lion cannot be compared; they are not of the same kind. This is saying that the breadth of Taoism is like the smallness of the fox, different from Buddhism, which has the grandeur of a lion.
“The lamp is not as bright as the sun and moon” refers to how the light of a lamp or a candle, which were small in the past, is far less bright than the light of the sun and moon. This means that the scriptures and teachings of Taoism are like the light of a lamp, while the Buddhist scriptures and teachings are like the light of the sun and moon, incomparable.
“A pond cannot hold the vast sea” means that a small pond has a limited capacity and can only hold a small amount of water, while the vast sea can accommodate many rivers. The pond and the sea cannot be spoken of in the same breath. This is a metaphor comparing the theories of Taoism to a small pond, while the teachings of Buddhism are like the vast and boundless sea.
“A hill cannot match the towering mountain” means that a small hill cannot compare to the grand and towering Mount Song, one of the Five Sacred Mountains of China. If the practice of Taoism is like a small hill, then the profound teachings of Buddhism are like the towering cliffs and deep ravines of ancient trees.
“The Dharma cloud descends upon the world, the Dharma rain nourishes all beings” means that when Buddhism spread to China, it was like a cloud of Dharma, like sweet dew, pervading the world and nourishing all beings.
“Supernatural powers are a rare thing” means that I have now shown supernatural powers, which is a rare and precious thing in the world.
“Everywhere transforming sentient beings” means that in reality, I did not want to show supernatural powers, and I did not want to compete with you. This is a last resort, for the purpose of guiding you and leading you to a brighter path, I am doing this as a convenient means.
After this contest, Buddhism took deep roots in China, not only producing a succession of talented individuals but also establishing a glorious foundation. White Horse Temple became the first and foremost temple in Chinese Buddhist history, and temples began to be built one after another. Ever since then the marvelous fruits and wondrous flowers of Chinese Buddhism have continued to flourish from generation to generation.
Taoism is an ancient Chinese philosophy that emphasizes living in harmony with the natural world and embracing simplicity. Its teachings have had a significant impact on both Eastern and Western cultures, including the field of psychology. One prominent figure in psychology who was influenced by Taoism is Carl Jung, a Swiss psychiatrist and psychoanalyst who founded analytical psychology.
Jung’s complex concept of “the Self” is one of his most significant contributions to psychology. The Self represents the totality of an individual’s psyche, including both conscious and unconscious elements. According to Jung, the Self is the goal of the individuation process, a lifelong journey of self-discovery and personal growth.
In ancient China, there were eight prominent figures in Taoism, and Lu Dongbin was the most popular one. Besides being a renowned Taoist, he was also a skilled poet and scholar. Throughout history, many legendary stories and folk tales have been told about him.
One interesting story was recorded in a Buddhist book called JiaTai Pu Deng Lu (嘉泰普灯录), which has also been documented in several other books, including XinShi Heng Yan (醒世恒言). Although there are some variations, the main points of the story remain the same. H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III also told this story in his dharma discourse: Expounding the Absolute Truth through the Heart Sutra.
Once, Lu Dongbin asked his master, “Master, why did you only save me for a thousand years?”
His master replied, “It’s difficult to teach all living beings. People’s habits are deeply ingrained, and they constantly change. Most living beings find it challenging to learn our Taoism.”
Lu Dongbin countered, “Master, I disagree. We are powerful beings. Are we afraid it will be difficult to liberate them? Let me go down and liberate people for you. I will free a thousand souls every year.”
His master warned, “You may go down to Earth, but be careful not to provoke the monks. Some cannot be trifled with.”
Lu Dongbin descended from the South Gate of Heaven on an auspicious cloud and saw the golden light of Huanglong Temple in Shanghai, China. Zen Master Huanglong was teaching the Heart Sutra and explaining Prajna principles. Lu Dongbin decided to listen in and transformed himself into a fly, sticking to the door.
However, Zen Master Huanglong was a powerful monk who knew Lu Dongbin was eavesdropping. He stopped teaching and instructed his attendant to remove the “person who stole our Dharma.”
Enraged, Lu Dongbin revealed his true form, brandishing his Qingfeng sword and accusing Zen Master Huanglong of insulting him. Lu Dongbin told Zen Master: “I am the great Taoist Immortal LU Dongbin.” Huanglong found it amusing and called Lu Dongbin a “ghoul guard” who would eventually die in vain.
Lu Dongbin drew his sword, but Zen Master Huanglong remained unperturbed, blocking the sword with his sleeve. Lu Dongbin knelt before the Zen master, feeling ashamed.
Huanglong proceeded to teach Lu Dongbin sudden enlightenment dharma, explaining that “speech is cut off, and mind is silenced.” As a god, Lu Dongbin was able to grasp the teaching quickly and had an epiphany.
After his enlightenment, Lu Dongbin wrote a gatha containing the line, “Since I met Huanglong, I realized that I mistakenly used my mind in the past.”
In Buddhist teachings, it is said that even the highest Taoist practitioner can reach heaven, but still remain in the realm of the birth and death cycle. However, if one can realize and abide in the original nature, then they can break through this cycle and achieve liberation. The original nature refers to the pure dharma body of all sentient beings within the three spheres of existence (triloka), which is united with the universe. It has no form, shape, physical body, or appearance. All living beings possess this original nature equally, which is the same as the dharma body of the Tathagata or dharmakaya. It neither comes nor goes, and is neither excessive nor lacking. It is immaculate, free from any notion of cleanliness or dirtiness.
Peace LiLy 