sky to heaven - the invisible life.

The first time I talked with a woman monk was at a psychology workshop. We were all sitting in the hotel lobby, waiting for the workshop to start. She was smiling and making jokes, and everybody else was listening to her and laughing with her, because everybody respects monks in this country, and they wanted to know more about her. And I, I was just watching her, because I’d never really heard a female monk talk before. And then she turned to me and asked, “So, what made you decide to come here?” I told her I was interested in psychology, and I wanted to learn different ways to help people. And she smiled and said, “Well, you’ve got a long way to go.”
“Oh? Why do you think that?”
“Because you don’t look too happy. If you want to help people, you have to be happy – or at least appear to be happy. Then, people will think they can be helped by you.”
I had to laugh at that. “Really?! I disagree. . .”

But I couldn’t think of how to reply. I knew instinctively what she said was wrong, but I didn’t know how to respond. I wanted to say, “You don’t see who I am,” or, “I can tell by what you just said that you don’t know half of how to help people.” Both of which I truly believed. I guess I had assumed that monks were more enlightened than the rest of us, and when I discovered that this was not necessarily the case, I was kind of disappointed. But I didn’t want to get into an argument with a monk. So I just kept quiet. But it still bothered me that I didn’t know how to reply.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Until later on that night, I thought of my reply. And here it is: Which one is more important, a candle or a sun?

Many of us have been taught to think that bigger, brighter, and more powerful is better. That the sun is more important. But I believe both the sun and candle are important – because it depends on where you are. If you are above the earth, you need the sun. If it is daytime, the sun is sufficient, and you really have no need for a candle. But if you are below the earth where the sun cannot shine, you need a candle. And if it is nighttime, there is no point in wishing for the sun, so a candle would be more practical.

One man may be in need of the sun, while another man may be in need of a candle. And even for the same man, at certain times in his life he may have more need of a sun, while at other times he may have more need of a candle. So it is not necessary to look up to a sun, or look down upon a candle. Both the sun and the candle have their place and value. And just as the monk has her place, I have mine. And so it is with all people: each one of us has our own place and value. Whether we are suns or candles, we all give light to some others in our lives.

For myself, I prefer to be a candle. I prefer to stand on the edge of darkness, for I come from darkness – which is why I appear to the monk to be unhappy. For many of us have lost hope and faith in happiness. Many of us feel unfulfilled, helpless, restless, bored, trapped, frustrated, indifferent, desperate, or in despair - and these are all different kinds of darkness. Most of us live inside these many darknesses, and not within light. And if a person has been in darkness for a long time, the sun may be too bright for their eyes to bear. To such a person so used to darkness, the sun may not even be desirable. It may even appear as the enemy, and not a friend. So to that person, a candle may be the first step back into light.

And as long as there are those who remain in darkness, I want to remain in the darkness as well - to show others that “There is another way.” For once I lived in darkness, and once I wished to be shown a way out, but no one was there. I had to walk my own way out, and the journey has been long. So I want to help others - because once I wished to be helped by others. I want to be able to live in darkness – but still carry light within me. I do not need to shine like the sun, or to have followers who walk my way. That is the opposite of what I want – for I believe the best way for each man is to follow his own way, and to find, if he so desires, the sun or candle within himself. For how have I helped a man, if he continually needs me to bring him light? Such a man is still a slave, and not his own master. And so it is always the light within yourself that is your true guide - and not a monk, or me, or any other man or woman.

The danger for the sun is that it may think itself to be so big, powerful, and important, while the danger for the candle is that it may think itself too small, powerless, and insignificant. In your life, you may feel more like a sun or more like a candle. And I believe a master is one who can be both a sun or a candle at the appropriate time and place – and not simply one or the other. But before we become masters, the monk will have her place, and I have mine. There is no need for me to become like her, or for her to become like me – or for you to become like anyone else. How strange it would be for the sun to say, “Candle, you should be more like me!” or for the candle to say, “No, sun, you be like me!” So if someone thinks it is better for you to become like themselves, or to be like a certain way, then they do not know this principle of life – that all things and all people, no matter how great or small, have their place and value.