Once, it is said, the Blessed One was residing near Sāvatthī, at Jeta’s Grove in Anāthapiṇḍika’s monastery. The night had descended, bringing with it a profound, enveloping darkness. It was the kind of night where even the stars seemed to hold their light in reserve, allowing shadows to reign supreme. Yet, within this darkness, the monastery grounds were alive with a quiet stillness, illuminated faintly by the soft, flickering glow of oil lamps placed along the pathways.
The Blessed One, serene and composed, was seated in the open air, his presence as still as the moonlit trees swaying gently in the night breeze. His mind was a vast, untroubled ocean, reflecting all yet clinging to nothing. As he sat there, the flames of the oil lamps danced, casting shadows that seemed to come alive, revealing the fleeting and uncertain nature of all things.
It was then that he observed a curious sight. In the warm light of the lamps, countless tiny insects were drawn to the glow. Some circled hesitantly, while others, overcome by their attraction, flew directly into the flames. One by one, they perished—meeting their downfall in the very light they had sought. Their fragile wings, so full of life moments ago, crumbled into ash, and their brief existence came to an abrupt and fiery end.
The Blessed One watched this with a calm yet penetrating gaze, his heart filled with compassion for all beings caught in the cycles of ignorance and craving. These insects, unaware of the danger, were ensnared by their desire, rushing heedlessly toward what they believed would bring fulfillment—only to find destruction. It was a poignant reflection of the human condition.
He spoke softly to himself, voicing the universal truth revealed in that simple, tragic scene:
“Beings, deluded and blinded by craving, rush headlong toward what they believe to be happiness, not seeing the flames that await them. Again and again, they meet their misfortune, unable to turn away from their desires.”
As the night deepened, a group of monks approached, drawn by the serene presence of the Blessed One. They seated themselves respectfully, sensing that their teacher had something to impart.
The Blessed One turned to them and said:
“Monks, do you see these insects, flying into the lamps, circling the flames, only to meet their end in the very light that captivates them?”
“Yes, Blessed One,” the monks replied in unison.
The Buddha continued, his voice steady and resonant:
“Just as these insects are drawn to the flames, so too are beings drawn to the allure of sights, sounds, tastes, smells, and touches. Overcome by craving, they pursue what appears desirable, unaware of the suffering that lies ahead. They become ensnared in the cycle of birth, aging, illness, and death, bound by their attachments and aversions.”
The monks listened intently, their hearts stirred by the profound truth of his words. The Blessed One then offered them a verse:
“Rushing headlong, blinded by craving,
missing what’s essential,
they fall, like moths into a flame.
One bond breaks, another forms,
and still they grasp,
seeking solace in the fleeting.”
“But monks,” the Buddha added, “there is a way out of this endless cycle. Through mindfulness and discernment, one can see clearly the nature of desire and its pitfalls. By cultivating the Noble Eightfold Path—right view, right intention, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, and right concentration—one can turn away from the flames and find liberation.”
The monks, inspired and grateful, resolved to deepen their practice. As the night wore on, the oil lamps flickered their last, and darkness reclaimed the grove. Yet within the hearts of those gathered, a light was kindled—a light of wisdom and understanding, brighter and more enduring than any flame.
Wisdom Tea 