Once upon a time, two good friends, a poet and a monk, regularly sat together drinking tea and discussing philosophy. The poet, somewhat egotistical, frequently transformed peaceful discussions into competitive debates. However, the calm and grounded monk won those debates without ever appearing to try, his deep wisdom simply surfacing in response to the poet’s provocations.
One day, the poet tried to provoke his friend again. He asked the monk: “What do you see in me?” The monk replied: “I see a Buddha in you.” Then, the monk asked: “What do you see in me?” Looking at the monk wrapped in a dark brown robe with his legs crossed on a mat, the poet replied: “I see a pile of shit.” The monk simply smiled and said nothing. The poet took the silence as an admission of defeat.
Once home, the poet, excited about his triumph, shared it with his sister, who was also a poet. Upon hearing the story, she couldn’t stop laughing. Once she collected herself, she explained: “Do you know the Universal Truth that Buddhism teaches? The outside world is only a projection of the inner world. What you see externally reflects your internal quality. The monk sees a Buddha in you because he has the quality of Buddha within him. He sees everything from a perspective of compassion. You see a pile of shit in him because you carry that quality in you. The moment you called him a pile of shit, you had already lost the argument.”
This story illustrates a classic mistake most of us make because we are unaware of this truth. In the physical world, all objects are separate. If we see a table, it is a table, distinct from ourselves. However, in the non-physical world—where thoughts exist and everything is energy—the logic is the opposite. We are all connected as part of Oneness. There is no “other,” only an extension of ourselves. What we “see” is a projection of our inner world. We can recognize our own qualities based on what we “see” or emotionally resonate with. This is the core truth: We are not what we think we are, we are not what others think we are, we are what we think others are.
This does not mean that if we see a thief, we are thieves ourselves, or if we see someone irresponsible, we are irresponsible. When we are unbiased, calm, and grounded, we simply see the truth of a situation. But if a specific behavior or event emotionally triggers us—if it sparks a reaction stronger than the moment warrants—it indicates an emotional resonance. This resonance can have multiple implications, both positive and negative.
On the positive side, this emotional charge can lead us to discover our life’s mission. For example, a drunk driver killed Candace Lightner’s daughter at a time when drunk driving was not yet illegal. Driven by a desire to prevent similar tragedies, she created Mothers Against Drunk Driving (MADD). The organization subsequently changed legislation and provided educational resources to prevent drunk driving in multiple countries. A deep emotional resonance with an injustice ignited her life’s work. Similarly, many who experienced poverty in childhood, once they achieve wealth, dedicate their lives to helping the poor and vulnerable. These are examples of turning personal struggle into motivation for positive change.
On the negative side, emotional resonance can expose our own shadows or ego, though this can be a gift in disguise if used properly. What we resist most is often where we need to heal and grow. We expose these shadows by projecting them onto others, usually in one of two ways: we either accuse others of qualities we dislike in ourselves, or we criticize them for qualities we admire but feel we lack. For example, calling others arrogant when we actually envy their self-confidence. Instead of looking inward to raise self-awareness, we project outward and blame the mirror for the reflection.
Here are a few real-world examples to illustrate. In a specific team, there were three members—A, B, and C. In the very first team meeting, out of the blue, Member A announced: “The people I dislike the most are those who promise to do something but don’t follow through.” In the following months, the team noticed the most consistent pattern about Member A was that he made promises but didn’t deliver.
Member B accused another colleague of being “narcissistic, because she thinks she is perfect and better than everyone else.” Over the following months, the team couldn’t identify those traits in that colleague. Instead, they noticed that Member B, like the poet, had a strong need to be right and to feel superior. If a colleague made a general suggestion—like arriving on time or doing their best—Member B would take it personally, as if he were being attacked, and argue defensively.
Member C was not performing according to her job description. Although the team leader reminded her and offered support, there was no response or improvement. When the team leader followed up again, Member C shifted the blame onto him, saying: “You think I am not qualified to do this job.” The team leader was taken by surprise; he had only tried to help improve her performance and had never questioned her qualification. Like the previous two members, Member C was projecting her own self-assessment onto another.
These examples show how the human mind works. As a principle, the outside world serves simply as a mirror. If we dislike what we see in the mirror, we can improve the reflection by changing ourselves, not by blaming the glass. When we feel the urge to judge, blame, or criticize, we can pause and reflect, turning the impulse into a learning opportunity for greater self-awareness. Ultimately, as part of Oneness, what we give out always returns to us. So, the next time you see a pile of shit, ask yourself what it says about the Buddha within you.